Machine
by Evangeline Dixon
Summary: Daryl comes to terms with Carol being missing. Caryl fanfic. Also shows the developing relationship of Caryl. Contains strong language and mature scenes
1. Missing

_"I would dig a thousand holes, to lay next to you, I would dig a thousand more, if I needed to." - Biffy Cyro, Machines._

Daryl Dixon walked around the perimeter of the prison, searching for Glen. He found him sat on a low wall, head in hands.

"Thought you was s'pose to be diggin' graves?" Daryl adjusted the crossbow on his back, not wanting to look at Glen when he said the word 'graves.'

Glen looked up, surprised someone as awkward as Daryl could sneak up on him so quietly, then he sank back to his head in his hands.

"Oh, right," Glen spoke darkly, "I got the other inmates to do it." Daryl glanced over at the chain link fence, beyond it, two figures dug sullenly.

Daryl debated asking Glen what was wrong but traded it for checking in on the digging, at least with that he could pretend he was doing something else. Talking to Glen or Maggie was like sitting an exam and realizing you don't know anything; you keep quiet and do your best, but inside you're screaming.

"Them boys don't know how to dig," Daryl huffed, walking infront of Glen towards the inmates.

"Urr Daryl?" Daryl turned back to face the young Korean boy, but his eyes were looking down.

On the floor lay a pink head scarf, covered in dirt.

Daryl looked at it and felt the fire grow in his head again, he turned and walked again.

"That ain't mine," He shouted behind him. Even though he knew full well it had fallen from his pocket.

...

"The hell ya think you're doin'?" Daryl stormed over, grabbing a shovel from Oscar who looked at him bewildered.

"Helping Glen," Axel replied sheepishly, looking to Oscar for approval.

"No you damn well ain't you son of a bitch," Daryl spat, "You even know who these are for?!"

Axel shifted uncomfortably.

"Sure we do..."

"The why the hell you diggin' a third?!" Daryl threw the shovel to the floor, squaring up to the terrified Axel who was shrinking under Daryl's shadow.

"Because that's how many people there are," Glen had followed and now he had his hand on Daryl's arm.

Daryl shrugged him off, backing away from Axel. With a nod of his head Glen sent the inmates back up towards the prison. Glen kicked a dirt clod with his foot and it exploded in mid air, he shoved his hands into his pockets, not knowing what to say.

"How can everyone be so sure she's dead?" Daryl tried to stop his voice from cracking by staring at the two already filed in graves.

"Daryl," Glen raised his hand, and then thought better of it. "She would have come back here."

"Maybe she couldn't," Daryl growled, facing Glen. "Y'all know jack shit and you're diggin' her a grave. You're fuckin' twisted."

Glen sighed and turned to walk back up the prison where Maggie was watching the conversation unfold, clutching Rick's baby to her chest. He stopped abruptly, tossing the headscarf to Daryl who, as much as he wanted to catch it, let it drift eerily to the floor.

"I told you, that ain't mine." Daryl swore.

Glen shook his head and walked away.

"It may as well be," He mumbled just loud enough for Daryl to hear.

As soon as Glen was out of sight Daryl scooped up the piece of material shoving it into his back pocket.

No one could be sure she was dead he told himself. No one saw her, they searched everywhere. She must have escaped. Daryl had swore that since he lost his brother he would never show that weakness again, the closest he had ever come to that was with Sophia and now he was finally back on track he lost another thing he cared about in the shitty place. The_ only_ thing he truly cared about in this shitty place.

He stared at the third open grave. What were they going to do? Just fill it in? With no body? No nothing to show it was hers, to show what they were to her.

Darly picked up the three make-shift crosses and stuck them into the graves, he then took out Carol's head scarf, draping it over the twigs that made her empty gravestone.

"You ain't dead Carol, I didn't spend all the time thinking 'bout you, for you to be fuckin' dead you hear me?" Daryl scolded the grave, looking to the sky. "You're the only one I get a kick out of seein' here, you think I can just go back to bein' an asshole? Carol, you don't know how good you are, you don't know shit."

Daryl felt the cool evening air cool down the heat that was seeping over his cheeks as he glanced around for walkers, there were usually some at this time. Sure enough he had to cut his conversation short to take one down.

He stalked towards it, looking down his sights with a new venom he had never had before, he wanted to kill, to hurt, whatever the fucking thing was. It limped towards him, with a sort of violent urgency. Daryl lined up his cross bow with the things head, obscured by tree's he still couldn't get a good shot.

"That's right, work for your supper you fuck." He coaxed it closer, it's arms outstretched.

Daryl squeezed the trigger, sending the arrow flying towards the target.

"Daryl," It said.

The arrow veered of course with Daryl's shock, stabbing a tree.

It froze, standing, sheltered by the trees, then carried on the limp, out into the open. It stumbled and woozily moved through the grass.

Daryl began to walk, pacing forward, abandoning his crossbow as he broke into a jog, which escalated into a heated sprint. A sprint to catch Carol as she fell, exhausted into his arms. He fell to the ground with her, cradling her and stroking her short hair; shushing her as she attempted to talk through parched, cracked lips.

"Are you bit? Scratched?" Asked Daryl as he stroked her arms and ran his rough thumbs over her tiny palms to check for cuts, Carol just smiled and sleepily shook her head.

""You're alright Carol, you're alright." She reached up a dry hand to cup his mucky face, but she lacked the energy to keep it there, slipping onto his shoulder and falling into blackness.

"God damn," Daryl growled, turning to see if any one else had seen Carol's arrival.

Sure enough, the rest of the group, bar Rick, were sprinting over to where Daryl had her sprawled across his lap. He wrapped a hand around her waist and another under her knees, sweeping her off the floor and into his arms.

"I knew you'd make it, you're my machine," He whispered into her ear, "You're stronger then me and everyone else here put together." He wondered if the rest of the group could see him but he didn't care.

"_You_ are every bit as good as_ them_." Daryl echoed her own words to him. "Every bit."


	2. Cellophane

Daryl wasn't around when Carol came to, he was out getting supplies for the baby. Formula and diapers and thing's like that, he wanted to believe it was because he liked the kid, wanted it to grow up strong, take the burden off Rick and all that crap. Although he knew it was really an excuse to not think about Carol, using utter most stealth to avoid walkers and make it out alive really took your mind off things.

Hershel had been taking care of her, he knew that really but he still felt like it was Hershel's fault she wasn't waking up, easier then to blame himself. He was always blaming himself for anything going wrong. He couldn't help Merle's addiction or his Dad's alcoholism or the bruises on his Mum's face, there was no way he would ever forgive himself for that. Just like he would never forgive himself for going with Rick and not Carol. Rick could hold his fucking own.

If he had been there when she woke God knows what he would have done. Smiling and crying and hugging her would have probably ruined his carefully sculpted 'image.' but remembering how sick he felt when he picked up her scarf in the deserted corridor while the other's tried to make sense of T-dogs death made him cringe.

"Did I get bit?" She asked groggily, gripping Hershel's arm.

Hershel's face broke out into an elated smile as he called the rest of the group into the room.

"No sweetheart, you're doin' just fine." Hershel stroked her brow as Beth joined him, wooping and clapping.

"Maggie, Glen!" She called, there wasn't much point calling for Rick anymore, his withdrawal had left the group feeling vulnerable and although Daryl was trying his hardest for everyone, his obvious affection for Carol was weighing him down.

Maggie and Glen burst into the room, face white with fear. Every call was taken to be one of sorrow these days but when they saw Carol's bright blue eyes they laughed and embraced, kneeling down at her bedside.

"Hi there kids," Carol smiled, sleepily.

An hour later heavy footsteps echoed on the prison halls, hiking boots. Daryl Dixon rounded to corner, and the room fell silent, idle chit chat drifting to a close. He stopped in the doorway, his heart racing. Good news or bad news? Good or bad?

Then he saw her eyes, bright blue and smiling.

Good news.

"S'pose you'll be needing water," Daryl nodded, not knowing what else to say without it being along the lines of "Carol, you're alive, don't ever do that again! I knew, I just knew!" and a hell of a lot of contact that was too much for him.

He saw her eyes droop at his comment and felt bad, so he curtly nodded and went out in search of something for her to drink. He found it pretty quickly but delayed seeing her just yet, he wasn't ready. He wasn't ready just yet. It turned out he didn't have to be ready, he was sat on the steps of the prison, tossing the bottle from side to side in his callous palms when she approached him, silent just like he taught her.

"Looks like you found that water," Her soft voice swung round his ears and made him dizzy.

He didn't turn, too afraid to see her in her fragile state, the fragile state he failed to save her from, he passed the cool bottle behind him but she didn't take it.

"You want it or not?" He murmured to her.

The silence could have echoed because everyone in and around the prison yard sensed it, sensed the friction between Daryl and his feelings.

"Oh, the second I get friendly with ya, you pull away again?! Carol demanded, folding her arms.

"I ain't pullin' away," Daryl turned to face her, taking in her sullen eyes and pale skin, the bruises and cuts on her face. A wave of nausea pulsed through him.

"You carried me Daryl," Carol spoke softly, touching Daryl's shoulder.

He didn't like the touching, it indicated things, comfort, hope, love, trust and all the other things Daryl Dixon was afraid of.

"Don't touch me!" Daryl laughed standing up, "I woulda carried anyone, I woulda carried Shane for Christ sakes." Carol flinched as if she had been hit.

He noticed that, her quirks, the savage indication of her past abuse, it registered on her face, the sad fact she thought he was going to hit her. He regretted the comment immediately but would never admit it. It wasn't pride. It was fear.

Carol turned away, not sure if she was relieved she wasn't being beaten or upset that the man she was most pleased to see had retracted himself once again.

"Don't act like you don't want friends, don't act like you're not mourning T and don't act like you ain't you." She spoke clearly, truthfully, "Because I can see through you like you're cellophane Daryl Dixon, but if you don't want me to I will shut my eyes and pretend that you ain't even a person."

"Doncha want your water?" Daryl said sheepishly, handing the bottle towards the empty shell that was Carol.

She turned, smiling sweetly and for a second Daryl thought he hadn't broken her after all. She reached forward, brushing his hand as she took the water from him. The electricity sparked from his fingers, up his arm, to his whole body and Daryl felt himself blush from Carol's touch, wait,_ Carol's_ touch?! He found himself not only blushing but picturing her sweet smile as she walked away. He watched her intently as she walked away with the water, so trance like that he didn't even notice her spin round and whip the water bottle towards him until it hit him like a bus, square in the face.

Daryl felt a blockage in his nose pop and a rush of hot blood coursed onto his shirt. Daryl cradled his bleeding nose and watched Carol storm into the prison.

"She's definitely grown up alright."


	3. Guiding Light

"Just tilt your head back," Hershel droned in his lethargic voice.

Daryl sat with his head against the camp bed, tissue stuffed up his nose, rapidly turning red.

"She just chucked it man," Glen laughed, informing Hershel on the current situation. "You didn't even move!" Daryl tried to glare at Glen but Hershel kept his head tilted upwards with a firm grip on is chin.

"You must've done somethin' Daryl, Carol's placid as a baby bunny." Hershel changed the tissues in Daryl's bloody nose as he talked.

"She's just fucking nuts," Daryl mumbled gruffly.

"She's probably feeling a little pissed, we all thought she was dead," Glen informed Daryl as he walked and sat on the camp bed. Shielding his face and his eyes filled with guilt

"I never." Daryl spoke aloud, knowing she couldn't hear but also kind of hoping she could.  
Glen stood up, backing away.

"You didn't even look for her man, non of us did." Glen was in the doorway, back where he came from, ready to run.  
Daryl stood up as Glen sprinted away, jerking Hershel's hand from his shoulder. He made to go after him but Maggie swung round and blocked his way, her brown curls bouncing.

"You ain't going near him, you hear?" She growled, protectively, her maternal instinct from looking after Rick's baby had lead to her to defending everyone. Everyone it seemed but Daryl."You know he's right."

"You get out ma way, or am I gonna have to move you?" Daryl said calmly, looking ahead for Glen in the dark corridors.

Maggie didn't reply but settled for a steely gaze. Daryl had had enough, if he couldn't be by himself since Rick's withdrawal he still wasn't going to stop being him., and right now he wanted to hit something, or someone. Right now, Glen was fucking him around.

"Don't you wanna know how much of a China-man he actually is?" Daryl asked through his teeth.  
The slap ricocheted across the dank halls of the prison, Daryl slowly turned his head back towards Maggie; he no longer looked vulnerable with the bloody tissue up his nose, he looked rage filled and terrifying. Like an angry bull ready the charge at anyone.

"He's Korean." Maggie said, her voice low and gravelly. Full of venom.

Daryl walked forward, forcing Maggie backwards.

"Bitch," Daryl towered over Maggie. She knew she shouldn't have provoked Daryl, looking at the suppressed fire in his eyes Maggie was genuinely scared as Daryl walked even closer to her. She stumbled backwards as Hershel appeared in the door.

"You get away from her," Hershel yelled, hobbling into the foyer on his crutches.

Daryl turned, the fire in his eyes still burning and his teeth gritted.

"You stay there old man," Daryl pointed at Hershel, twisting his hand accusingly as Hershel still moved forward. "Or am I gonna have to take y'other leg too?"

"Daryl!" The noise cut through the air like the siren that had lead to T-dog's demise. Carol stood at the top of the stairs, wrapped in a pale cardigan, the shock registering on her face as she realized what the yelling she had heard was.

She beckoned to Maggie to her but Maggie shook her head fearfully, running over to her father who embraced her, helping him down one of the corridors to find Glen.

Daryl looked up at Carol and their eyes met, her's were narrowed and her arms crossed in a defensive way. Hi's were also narrowed but not at her, he looked at her for a split second before turning to scowl at the ground, pulling the bloody tissue from his nose and wiping the remaining blood from the back of his hand. It was only then he realized how much she had hurt him with the water bottle and how much he must have hurt her, he guessed they were even now.

Carol looked down at Daryl, it was the first time she had seen true weakness in him and although she had always thought seeing it would make him more human to her; it didn't. The feeling of dread she felt as she saw him square up to the young Maggie and the knowledge that, when angry, Daryl would do anything to quell his feelings made her stomach turn. She had created that anger, as her actions had done so many times before, the words he once spat at her rang round her head as she retreated back into her cell.

_"Why couldn't you just keep an eye on her?!"_

**...**

"I wasn' gonna hit her," Daryl stood in the doorway of Carol's cell, watching her as she folded her clothes, watching her small dainty hands work a repetitive pattern of: fold, fold, fold over, pile. She sighed and dropped the jumper, placing her hands in her lap.

"Is that meant to make it okay that you threatened her and her father?" Carol shifted uneasily, too afraid to get as angry as she was feeling at that exact moment.

"She fucking slapped me!" Daryl grabbed the back of the wooden chair she was sitting on and span it round, lifting her legs off of the floor.

"You don't gotta prove yourself to me Daryl," She wouldn't look at him when she said it because the truth was, how could she look at a man she still trusted with her life, when all he did was fight and insult and kill.

"Yeah, yeah I do," Daryl had to have at least someone on his side, he just wasn't sure if Carol was the easiest person to get there, or the only person he wanted there.

"Well then I trust you," Carol stood up and went back to the pile of clothes. She did trust him of course. If he let her she would tell him everything about herself, knowing he would keep it safe.

"You trust me?" Daryl asked taken back, his eyes softened as he looked at the only person who had ever said that to him in his life.

Throughout every single time Merle had pinned things on him, the drugs, the violence, not a single person had trusted him. Carol looking at him now, was that pity he saw in her eyes?

"That's cute," He said, shrugging it off. "Even I wouldn't trust me," He glared at her deep blue eyes with his small brown ones.

He turned around, he was done with this, these feelings.

"Daryl," An obviously upset Carol mumbled.

He looked up.

"You better stay here, less Maggie and Glen find you." Carol muttered, wanting Daryl to stay those extra minutes.

Daryl laughed.

"Like chicken chou-mein stands a chance," Daryl laughed.

Carol whipped around, walking up to him, squaring up to him despite being smaller.

"Don't do that! These people are your family, and they've saved your ass_ more _then a few times!" Carol yelled, frustrated.

"Just like I've saved yours?" Daryl didn't move but he made sure the sentence was loud enough to have impact. "You ain't even worth it, you just don't think do ya lady?"

Carol stayed still and let him shout, let him get out the anger he was keeping inside, waiting to release her own. She knew that his anger was his way of taking himself out of situations instead of accepting the harsh reality that he may have severed the other friendship he had left. She could take it though, she'd had it worse from Ed. The bruises on her skin for days, the marks on her mind forever. With Daryl he would never do more then the verbal attacks and she knew it. He had to stay strong for the group, for Rick and if shouting at her was going to stop him shouting at Maggie, Hershel and the rest of the group, then so be it. Carol was used to being used.

"I ain't your savior woman, I ain't some guiding light and I don't need you fuckin' watching me like a hawk. I don't need your trust to get by." He turned and walked to the door, gripping the handle, throwing the door open and walking out.

"Daryl," Carol shouted, gripping the cell bars.

He turned slowly, impatiently.

"You need someone," Carol said softly, hoping it would prompt him to realize it was okay the let him walls down for once. He began to walk back, opening the cell and joining her again.

Only the pick up the wooden chair, drag it out, throw it against the wall with an audible grunt where it exploded. A wooden clatter sounded as the pieces fell to the floor, then he walked back to her cell and slammed it shut, the metal ring bounced off the walls, Carol noticed the fresh cuts on Daryl's hands from the chair and it reminded her of how he treated Randell, how he treated Randell to protect them.

"I don't need _no one_," Daryl shouted before striding out of the room.

She could hear the sound of his heavy boots and the corridor for a while until they stopped and she heard the sound of someone sinking to the floor.


	4. Drunk

Carol paced along the corridors, looking for someone, anyone to get her mind off of Daryl. The night was closing in and, for the 4th night in a row, Rick was on watch. He liked to sit up there, in the quiet of the night with a gun. Glen sat, making sure Rick couldn't see him, just in case worse came to worse and Rick decided he didn't want to live anymore and tried to make himself Walker bait. Daryl had been on 'secret' watch but tonight he was no where to be seen.

"Hello?" Carol called down the corridors, it was dark outside and even darker indoors. She wasn't looking for anyone in particular but it still helped to hear noise, even if it was her own voice.

"Carol?" A deep voice came back, muffled from behind a closed door.

The noise made her jump but the fear quickly turned to relief as she realized there was someone to talk to.

"Yeah, it's me," She looked around for an entry into conversation. "Where are you?" She asked confused.

She spotted a door at the other end of the hallway and decided it to be the source of the noise, she started to walk to the door and picked it up to a jog when she realized what was behind her the last time she was in that very corridor. She all but burst into the room, scanning for whoever was in there.

Oscar's tall figure stood twiddling with the generator's. He turned to look at her, smiling politely.

"Hi there, can I help you?" He seemed surprised that she was talking to him, most of the group still saw him and Axel as the enemy even though Oscar had saved Rick's life.

"Nothing in particular," Carol sighed. "Just wanted some company."

She sat own on the floor by the door, running her hand over some prints in the gathering dirt that almost looked like skid marks. Someone trying to block the door and struggling maybe? She wondered who they belonged to.

Oscar nodded, he knew that Carol didn't want an answer, she just wanted someone there. She sat with her head lolled on the door, wiping dirt off the ground and then rubbing her fingers together until it disappeared again. Just like her relationship with Daryl; he would be there for her when she was at her lowest and then when she was on her feet, he would be gone, back to knocking her on the floor.

"Oscar?" Oscar looked up and smiled again, she could see he was trying to polite but was obviously busy.

"Yes?" He answered her question anyway.

"Oscar, you got any alcohol in that stock cupboard of yours?"

Oscar laughed.

"If that's what you're after, then you're in luck." He smiled, sincerely this time.

...

The bottles lined the shelves, she guessed that no-one wanted to be drunk anymore, no-body wanted to be off guard.

Red wine and white wine and rose and every little thing in between was there. Carol picked up a bottle of red cooking wine and tossed it in her hands, loving the coolness. Beth could use this, she thought, it'd make the squirrel taste a hell of a lot better.

She turned, ready to leave but came back after a moment of deliberation. Her hands browsed the rows of colorful bottles she brought down a bottle of red wine and shoved it under her right arm, stealing a bottle of whiskey and shoving it under her left arm. Finally taking a bottle of rum and wandering out of the pantry, arm's full.

She left the cooking wine with Beth, giving her directions on how to use the rosemary and what to do with the wine and how it would taste so much better. Beth smiled and nodded but her eyes kept drifting back towards the other three bottles stuffed under her arms.

Later, she sat by herself in her cell and unscrewed the top of her wine, slowly with each twist of her hand, her stomach tightened. She took in the earthy smell of the drink and took her first swig, retching. It was the first time she had tasted alcohol in over a year, but she was no stranger too it. She used to get drunk before going to bed, knowing Ed was there and thinking it would be better if she had only bruises to remember their encounters by. She covered her mouth with the back of her hand, forcing herself to swallow the blood red liquid. She licked the inside of her teeth and began to prepare herself for another swig.

...

"Beth, this is amazing" Maggie smiled at her younger sister, eating a tender piece of squirrel.

Beth grinned, liking the acceptance she was getting.

Carl nodded agreement, he didn't speak much these days unless it was about something incredibly important.

"Carol told me how to do it," Beth smiled, showing her teeth.

Maggie laughed as she pointed to a burnt bit of squirrel stuck in between Beth's incisors. Embarrassed, Beth tilted her head down, shoving her hands in her mouth.

Daryl walked through the heavy prison door and wandered over to sit down, no took any notice.

"Where is Carol anyway?" Maggie asked, still giggling.

"No idea," Daryl muttered, trying to weasel his way back into the semi-good books with Maggie.

"I don't know Maggie," Hershel said loudly, cutting off Daryl completely, Daryl glared at the white haired man.

"Maybe we should leave her for a bit," Beth's head came back up and she went straight back to eating, "I think she found a bottle of wine."

Almost as soon as the words left Beth's mouth there came an almighty crash from the Cell block vicinity and more than a few curse words.

Daryl rose to his feet, abandoning dinner.

"I think she found more than one." Daryl hissed as he went to see what the noise was.

He found Carol looking sadly at the smashed red wine bottle, it's contents completely drained. She was staring at it as if it was a glass of spilled milk more than anything. She placed the bottle of whiskey she was clutching down gently on the ground as she went to sweep up the glass shards with her bare hands.

"No!" Daryl rushed forward and grabbed her wrist, stopping her from cutting herself. She thanked him but yanking her tiny, starving wrist back and scooping up a large chunk of glass, holding it at Daryl's throat who barely flinched.

"Don't you fuckin' touch me!" Carol yelled, her hand trembling.

Daryl raised an eyebrow.

"Yer drunk," he smirked.

She dropped the shard and looked around confused as if to say 'I am?!'

"And yer a slob," Carol accused nonchalantly, scooping up the whiskey bottle and taking it to her mouth like a suckling baby, managing to keep this swig down.

"Hey now," Daryl snatched the bottle off of her, getting a face full of whiskey in the process. He wiped the spittle off his face. "That's hard stuff."

"Gimme that back," Carol complained, reaching for it like a small child. She stumbled forward, tripping over her own feet and falling towards him.

Daryl held the bottle in one hand and caught Carol in the other, his muscle straining from her whole weight. They collapsed on the floor in a heap, he picked up her leg to avoid the glass as she nearly cut herself on.

"Hold up now, you need to slow down," Daryl poured a small amount of syrupy liquid into the bottle cap and let her sip it, who was he to tell her not to drink? She held the cap like a chipmunk sipping eagerly.

"You know, you got pretty eyes," Carol hiccupped, "You got pretty everything." Carol grinned as she let her eyes drift down.

Swiftly, Daryl pushed her off of his shoulder where she had been leaning, causing her to fall on her back.

"Yer drunk," Daryl said tonelessly.

"On ma back," Carol drawled, grinning. "Is that how you like it?"

Daryl flushed red and turned his face away as he look slugs from the whiskey bottle, shit, he wished Carol had not just said what she said, but she had.

He pulled Carol's forearm up roughly, so she was _not_ on her back. Not that she could feel it, she was far too drunk right now. He saw his red marks on her and blushed again. Carol fell forward leaning against Daryl's shoulder again, looking up at him like a puppy dog. Daryl looked down at her.

He saw her gag and instinctively backed off, but she managed to keep it down. Daryl took four more swigs.

"Daryl, you're ruining it all," Carol spoke sleepily, staring into Daryl's small, brown eyes.

"I always do," Daryl spoke softly, knowing she wouldn't remember in the morning. "It feels like I gotta ruin you to stay bein' me,"

Carol grinned mischievously, stroking Daryl's mucky arm, the dirt coming away from his arm and onto her hand, but she didn't care.

"Well, there's moe than one way we can do that," Carol drawled incoherently, attempting to wink.

That's when Daryl noticed the cut on her mouth, the tiny cut bleeding on her lip, it bottle must have been chipped. He took his thumb and wiped off the blood, it smeared and made her lips look ruby red.

"Yer. Drunk." He said, quickly withdrawing his hand from her face.

She stared up at him, she looked not only ill from her time away from the prison but sick. Sick from the booze he let her drink, and she wanted him. He hadn't had a chance to talk to her about her time away yet and frankly he didn't want to.

She was leaning towards him now, he froze, he didn't know whether to let her kiss him and say she came on to him, or lean in that extra inch and pray she didn't remember it.

Wait, no. He didn't want her. At all. Never, ever.

She was so close now he could smell her, her scent, her beauty. Then she fell, lips pursed and inches from his.

She blacked out on his shoulder, her head slid down into his lap and that's where she stayed for the rest of the night, snoring and mumbling in her sleep.

"Fuck," Daryl whispered as he finished the bottle of whiskey and started on the rum. He gave Carol's head a pat and made a mental note to be gone by morning.


	5. Acting Like Daddy

Daryl woke in the morning laid in a room he didn't recognise, an empty bottle of rum in one hand and a crumpled tissue stuck to his other. He sat up bleary eyed and confused, he made a disgusted grunting sound and pried the tissue off of his hand, it cracked.

He zipped his trousers closed and did his belt up, dropping the bottle. Daryl slept in his clothes just like everyone did nowadays, no one wanted to be caught unprepared but it was even worse to be caught unprepared and in your underwear. He looked around the room for anyone, checking he hadn't made any mistakes in his drunken stupor; no one was there. He realized, as he rolled off the camp bed, that he was in the generator room. The group probably shut him in when he started running his liquor soaked mouth. He couldn't know what time it was for sure but he was certain that someone would have woken him if it was after nine. He opened the heavy door of the room with a grunt and trudged down the dark corridors to the cell blocks, the only sound that could be heard was Hershel's heavy snoring and Daryl knew it was early. Strolling idly up to the cell he had left Carol in he gazed through the bars, sure enough, she was lying on the floor curled up in a ball with a slight smile on her thin, pink lips. The glass bottle she had smashed was pushed to the side, Daryl had done it just before he left, stumbling away to wherever the hell he went, he wouldn't have wanted to hurt herself.

He left before he could admit to himself that was staring. Like a hawk, Daryl swept outside into the courtyard, searching for Rick and Glen. The sky was a light golden colour, tinted with blue as the sun rose behind the expanse of trees; a thin fog was hovering over the ground complementing the cold. Daryl kicked through the fog, stalking the ground until he was far enough away to see the guard tower and the tops of the prison. Rick sat on a deck chair, rifle in his lap, staring blankly over the excess of land. He looked no more capable of killing a walker then Beth, as harsh as it seemed, Rick was useless in this situation. Daryl looked at Rick, presuming he would see him, he didn't. Awkwardly, Daryl lifted a hand in the air and moved it left to right in a jagged motion, it would hardly be called a wave but it caught Rick's attention. Rick stared at Daryl as if he wasn't there and Daryl half expected him to lift the rifle up and shoot the shit out of him. Instead, Rick curtly nodded at Daryl then went back to staring at nothing. Daryl searched the area for Glen, Rick's eyes and ear's for the night. He found him slumped against the guard toward, eyes closed and drooling, his gun pointed upwards and into his open mouth his finger lingered lazily on the trigger as his chest rose and fell.

Daryl inhaled deeply, counting to ten before he decided to climb up the guard tower and wake up Glen, carefully that is, the last thing he wanted was to startle Glen and have him accidentally blow his head off. Daryl knelt beside Glen and delicately shifted the gun to the left.

"Ahhh!" Glen yelled effeminately.

He squeezed the trigger tightly on the gun as Daryl hit the floor, the watchtower light light shattered and tiny shards of glass, as fine as rain, fell down over the both of them.

"Christ," Glen breathed, his eyes wide, "What the hell was that?"

"It woulda been yer head, if I hadn't been there," Daryl snatched the gun away from Glen, frustrated, the fear of what could have just happened churned in his stomach.

"Why are you even up here Daryl?" Glen asked, tense.

"Woke up early, yer not spose to fall asleep on watch," Daryl waved the gun at him, before dropping it back on Glen's lap. Across the roof, Rick still stared directly in front of him.

"I ought to kill you for what you did to Maggie." Glen growled, clutching the gun to him.

Daryl wouldn't put it past him, he would clearly do anything for that girl.

"More what she did to me," Daryl muttered, touching his face where Maggie had slapped him.

That made Glen smile and Daryl figured he was off the hook, well with Glen at least.

"Glen?" A female voice sounded the end of their conversation, Maggie's slim figure appeared at the bottom of the guard tower, calling up to her Glen. "I heard a shot?"

"Well," Glen said, looking down at the gun in his hands and promptly dropping it, thinking about the shot that could have been to his head. "I better go,"

"yeah, think I'll hang back here a bit," Daryl mumbled, looking out over the prison yard.

Glen laughed.

"Scared man?" Mockingly, Glen pulled a sad face. "I'll be right down Maggie, everything's fine" Glen raised his voice, shouting down.

"Nah," Daryl smirked, swinging round, out of the door and taking off downstairs. "You're whipped though man," Daryl shouted.

It took all of ten minutes to piss Glen off, again.

Back inside - in the canteen - Daryl dismissed Beth as she tried to offer him some form of breakfast. He wasn't feeling hungry. He was pretty sure after two bottles anything would make him sick.

Carol hadn't noticed him yet as she sat with her head in her hands groaning about it being too bright as Beth giggled nervously.

"How ya feelin'?" Daryl asked, smirking.

She looked up at him, her eyes widened and she opened and closed her mouth a couple times. She had been trying to avoid him. The man was like a ghost.

"Beth?" She stood up, too fast by the looks of things because she had to steady herself on the table. "How's that food coming along?" She said as she walked over to the young girl, talking in hushed tones.

She definitely remember last night; she spared one last glance back at him before walking behind Hershel, she put her hands on his shoulders.

"Hershel, I think today should be a medical day, don't you?" She informed to Hershel but she looked at Daryl. Hershel nodded and reached for his crutches but Carol stopped him.

"It's alright hun, you take your time," Carol smiled sweetly, stealing another tentative glance at Daryl, he raised an eyebrow.

Leaving the canteen area Carol began to make her way through the dark corridors back towards the cell blocks. She felt eyes on her as she made her way through, footsteps walking closer. She turned, quickly.

No one was there.

She increased her pace but still felt something watch from the blackness, coming closer and closer, she turned again.

She screamed.

Daryl gripped the back of her neck and her mouth, stifling her scream. She relaxed as he pulled his hand away from her mouth.

"Daryl," She said exasperated, "You don't do that!"

"What happened out there?" Daryl didn't answer her question. "You ain't said a word yet and no-ones made ya,"

"You won't make me either Daryl," Carol said crossing her arms.

Daryl grabbed her hands and pulled them towards him, turning them over to see them, and also show them to her. Her wrists were black and red and purple, with hints of yellow, definite grip marks.

"You gonna say you tripped and got those?" Daryl shook her hands and then dropped them.

"You lived with me all that time Ed was layin' his hands on me and not once did you ask about them," Carol questioned. "And _now _you're askin' bout me?! After sayin' I wasn' allowed to touch you yesterday but_ you_ get to touch_ me_?!"

Daryl looked at her, not talking, but the questionable expression on his face was doing all the talking.

"That's not how it works, you don't getta choose!" Carol was closer now, and shouting. "I didn't ask about how you managed to get through two bottles of liquor last night and not show a single sign of it this morning."

Daryl grabbed her wrist and pulled her close so her chest was touching his.

"_You want me to be ma Daddy now_?" Daryl said calmly, low and threatening.

Carol ripped her hand away, grimacing, and slapped Daryl with all her strength. Although it didn't hurt Daryl, he backed up to the adjacent wall, leaning on it. He sighed deeply, looking up at Carol who's eyes had begun to tear. She was frantically wringing her wrists like they had imaginary hand cuffs on them, as if she was in a police intergeneration.

Daryl lowered his eyes at her feet, watching them move closer and closer to his, she took tentative, child like steps until the toe's of her worn out shoe's were touching his hunting boots. He looked up, briefly.

"I'm sorry," Carol drawled in her smooth accent, staring at him. "You remember what happened last night, dontcha?"

"Yer," Daryl replied curtly.

Carol lifted a hand to Daryl''s neck, it was cold but he didn't move it and then she pressed her lips against his, hard and desperate, firm. Daryl didn't move an inch. She was a delicate butterfly and anything might have scared her away. He let her kiss him, not moving anything until she pulled away, backing up a couple paces as she looked deep into Daryl's blue eyes. Daryl's mouth opened slightly, his eyes wide and scared, vulnerable.

But only for a second before he narrowed then and tore off down the hallway.


	6. Reciprocation

**Thank you all for the lovely feedback, you guys keep me writing! 3**

Daryl kept walking away, not sparing a look back at Carol's disappointed face. His heart pounded and he couldn't quite breathe, every time he went to take a breath he felt words forming that he wasn't quite ready to say just yet.

He took into account it was barely morning and began sculpting all the ways he could avoid seeing her for the rest of the day, while simultaneously thinking about all the ways he could bump into her without her noticing,

"Put her fuckin' lips on me, who the hell she think she is?" Daryl mumbled and he paced the floors of the prison foyer, everyone else eating in the canteen.

"Who did?" Daryl jumped out of his skin, pointing his crossbow at the ominous voice.

"Hold up Daryl," Rick rose his hands to the air.

Stunned, Daryl dropped his crossbow to the floor.

"Shit," Muttered Daryl, trying not make it obvious that he was shocked at Ricks appearance as he would be if it was an elephant standing in front of him.

Rick bent down and handed the metal contraption back to Daryl. Rick was pale and weak, Daryl could see the bones in his wrist jut out. His sheriff outfit had been outside his cell for days, but Daryl knew Rick would never put it back on.

It had been three days since Lori's death, Rick was not a leader anymore, he was the shell of a broken and lonely man, completely forgetting he had two children to look after, to protect. If Rick wasn't floating around the prison, a ghost of his former self, he was biting the heads off the people who cared about him most.

Daryl thought it best that he didn't mention a woman around Rick right now.

"Ugh no one," Daryl shuffled uneasily.

"Where's the baby?" Rick asked, looking behind him as if the child would be crawling towards him.

"Maggie's got her," Daryl, stepped in front of Rick as he tried to take off in search of the child. Not knowing how Rick would react Daryl thought it would be better if the child was introduced to him in a more controlled situation. "Maybe we should wait a bit man," Daryl blocked the doorway, preparing himself for how Rick would react.

"Her Mom should have her," Rick nodded, more tears pooling at his eyes as he sat on the ground and erupted with low guttural sobs of agony.

Daryl looked the floor, thinking of Carol. Thinking of how Rick's reaction in the prison yard reflected exactly how he was feeling, thinking about losing Carol, about how selfish that made him, he was always selfish when it came to the things he cared about. All that time Merle had beat him down and forced him to do things he didn't want and he would still pick Merle if the time came down to it.

Daryl stayed with Rick while he cried, waiting until he stopped, then he took him to his cell and told him to get some sleep. He hadn't slept for nearly three days.

**...**

Carol dried the last of the dishes with a sopping wet tea towel as Glen pulled the plug and pushed himself onto a counter top, staring at Maggie as she bopped up and down hushing the baby she so desperately wanted that wasn't hers. Carol watched Glen watch Maggie, looking at the romance she so desperately wanted but wasn't hers.

She felt a warm smile spread across her face as Glen swept off of the counter top to collect Maggie into a hug and kiss the top of her head, it quickly turned to a look of sorrow as she watched Maggie's face crumple and collapse into tears, no one was quite over the deaths that had wracked the group yet. Carol left the three of them together as she wrung out her wrists.

It wasn't her time yet, death was more important then the living right now, even if she had been 'dead' to them for a short while. She walked out of the canteen area, past Beth, Hershel and Carl who were sorting out medical supplies and firearms, she walked past Daryl, cleaning arrows and Rick sleeping in his cell. There was no use for her here, maybe she would have been better off staying lost. She walked out side, shut herself into the stairwell of the guard tower and screamed, letting the tears roll down her face.

**...**

The day found the night fast on another uneventful day of sitting around, taking inventory and no one exploring any more of the prison in the wake of recent events.

The most exciting thing to have happened all day was Beth finding a pair of battery powered speakers and an Ipod. Maggie's mouth dropped at the insane discovery and Hershel just asked what an 'Ipod' was, making everyone laugh for the first time in a while.

"We can use the batteries for somethin' useful," Daryl said, holding out his hand for the speakers.

Carol was furious, stepping in front of Beth.

"They ain't gonna run out in an hour, let just have some fun" Carol crossed her arms and turned back towards Beth. "Play somethin' I know,"

She didn't give Daryl time to argue.

The drawling voice of Bon Iver played over the speakers, Carol didn't know it but she decided she liked it, whoever's music player it used to be was obviously a big fan. Her and Glen found candles and placed them all over the cell block, giving the whole place a homely feel even though Daryl sat and sulked because he preferred the generator lights.

"Candles are for pussies," He muttered and couldn't help but see the corners of Carol's mouth turn up.

Maggie rocked the baby to the slow and soothing music until finally she fell into a deep sleep.

Awakening from his sleep Rick walked into the foyer, seeing the candles and hearing the music. Silently he drifted down to the benches where everyone sat, everyone but Daryl looked up, stunned to see him.

"Dad," Carl breathed. Rick didn't reply.

Instead he walked down to Maggie, who looked at him with wide eyes, afraid to let the baby go.

Daryl watched on intently as Maggie slowly passed the sleeping baby up to Rick who cradled it. Carl stood beside his father as they stared at the tiny child.

At once Carol knew, even though Lori was gone, they would still be a family. Rick sat on the bench next to Maggie with the baby in his arm, tears lacing his cheeks, but a smile was on his face.

Maggie smiled, close to tears herself, at Glen; who wrapped his arms around her in a hug.

The music was the only thing to be heard.

Silently Glen rose to his feet, pulling Maggie up with him and holding her close as they began to sway to the music.

Carl and Rick sat on the bench fussing over the child, their happiness reflected in the candle light.

Beth held Hershel's hands as he rocked happily to the music on his one good leg, Carol smiled at the odd sight.

Everyone danced.

Sparing a glance at Daryl, who was still seated, staring at Rick. She knew she wasn't going to dance tonight,

Daryl could see Carol as she sat on the bench, watching the others dance. Daryl didn't dance, he never had danced. He'd never had a girlfriend. Sure, he'd been with girls, that was easy enough to do back home. He didn't have any real interest in that though, as much as it pained him to say, he was shy. He knew he couldn't leave her seated though, staring at her shoes or trying to act happy for everyone who had someone.

It made sense for them to be together to Carol, they were both the loners, no family left; still he didn't come to ask. She watched as he got up from the bench to wonder towards her, she sat up straight and smiled coyly as he walked up to her.

Daryl walked straight past her shy grin. It was too much for him. Too much comfort could be found in her, so much heat radiated from her skin. He couldn't catch his breath when he though about doing her, not that he did that a lot. Okay, he did it all the time. But he put it down to hormones.

Their kiss had scared him.

A good scare.

A, I'm secretly in love with you, scare.

He turned.

"You wanna dance dontcha?" Daryl tried to make himself sound uncaring, instead he sounded like a frightened teenager.

"Oh no, I don't mind." Carol shook her head and smiled, look longingly at Glen and Maggie.

Daryl stood, looking at the floor as he stuck out his hand awkwardly.

"Get up," He ordered.

She stared, was he accepting her kiss? Or just trying to placate a sorrowful woman? She stretched out her own hand carefully and placed it in his. He pulled her up and stared at her, obviously unsure of what to do. Carol placed his hand on her waist and smirked at his reddening cheeks as she placed her hand on his sturdy shoulder, gripping his other hand with hers.

"Never knew you could dance," She teased as he shuffled from side to side.

"I can't" He growled through gritted teeth.

"Follow me," She winked, laughing at his reaction.

She relaxed into him, making his arm bend at the elbow. Comfort, she found that in him and she could tell by the way his hand snaked around her back that he found comfort in her.

After a while, everyone disappeared . Her and him and Rick and Carl were all that remained.

They were still dancing, swaying delicately, Daryl still rigid as a board as he moved Carol, her head on his shoulder, his breath in her hair.

She lifted her head.

"You go into hidin' a lot," She questioned his disappearance in the afternoon.

"Yeah, well I'm hidin' from you," He teased, one side of his mouth turning up at the corner.

She kissed him again, a peck this time, but he didn't let go of her hand. He just looked at her, audibly swallowing. Stopping the movement then looking over her shoulder at Rick and Carl, still awake.

Carol broke apart from him, upset that he still wouldn't reciprocate her advances.

"I can't make this happen, if you don't want me to Daryl," She said, hushed. "I can't do all the work."

Turning around she spoke to Rick.

"I'm goin' to bed, I'll see you in the mornin' Carl," Carl smiled at her, "And hopefully you too Rick," But Rick was too engrossed with the child to reply.

She took ten paces towards her cell and stopped. Turning to speak to the back of Daryl, walking to his perch.

"Daryl?" He stopped and she knew he was listening. "You can come if you like,"

She steadied her voice, taking the leap of faith.

"To bed," She clarified.

Daryl froze, debating, but he waited too long. Carol sighed and walked to her room, another night alone in a cold bed.

Daryl heaved back the feel of nausea in his stomach. Turning, he followed Carol to her cell, and into her bed.


	7. Sorry Brother

"Is that it," Carol asked as Daryl rolled over on the cramped cot, away from her.

After the clumsy and awkward tangle of limbs that could barely be called sex, Daryl had rolled off and away from her.

"Is this what you did with all those other girls? You just roll over?" Carol was being pushed off of the cot inch by inch.

Daryl lifted his head to look at her.

"I ain't ever been in a bed with other girls," Daryl retorted, causing Carol to crumple her face in distaste.

This wasn't how she imagined it, this is was all too familiar, roll over and pretend it never happened, that was Ed's way.

"Alrighty then," Carol turned around so their back were touching.

Daryl stared at the wall. He'd done it wrong he was sure, it was easier with the girls from his hometown, they didn't care what you did so long as they didn't get pregnant. Then they'd just pull up their knickers, pull down their skirts and leave. He wasn't sure what to do after he'd been_ intimate_ with someone, he'd never been_ intimate_ before.

Daryl sighed, taking a chance as he rolled over, his chest pushing into the smooth, warm skin of her back, he pulled her arm. She rolled over easily, looking up at him as he cradled her against his chest. Her naked body pressing against him. He placed one palm on her back and used the other to support her head as he tucked it under his chin.

"Other girls weren't like you," He mumbled into her hair.

She jerked her head upwards.

"What'dja say?" She asked, blue eyes twinkling.

"Nothin'. Go to bed," He ordered, pushing her head back down to rest on his chest.

She closed her eyes and soon enough Daryl could feel her breathing slow as she began to sleep. He stared at the bars of her cell, the way anyone could have walked past, Rick and Carl probably did. The way they didn't talk, didn't say anything as it happened. They both knew they had wanted it but neither wanted to scare the other off.

She hadn't seen the marks and scars that were left on him but he definitely saw the ones on her, when she had her eyes closed he scanned over her beautiful body as she moved, taking in her bruises and scars, marks left by Ed.

Silently, he wondered what had happened to her out there that was still too afraid to talk about and made a note to ask her about it in the morning.

...

She woke up in the middle of the night, well it was morning, but it was still dark outside and everyone still slept in their cell's. She stretched out on the tiny camp bed, she had a problem of not being able to get back to sleep once awake. She pulled the sheet around her and noticed there wasn't any tug on the other side. Daryl had left, just like she had predicted. She sat up, her eyes adjusting to the light and then she saw him, sat on a chair across from the bed, fully dressed and looking straight at her.

She used the sheet to cover her body as she looked skeptically at the still figure.

"You been watchin' me sleep?" She asked, cocking her head to one side.

"What happened out there?" Daryl asked bluntly.

Carol recoiled from the directness of the question.

"Daryl, I-" She began.

He stood, coming closer and putting his face inches from hers.

"I don't care if you ain't ready Carol, I gotta know," He growled, "It's keeping me up at night, tell me what happened."

She drew her knees up to her chest.

"Okay,"

_"It all started when T-Dog told me to run. I didn't want to leave him but I knew if I didn't go we'd both be dead and that just made no sense._

_So I ran through the doors and out into the yard, they were everywhere and I couldn't see anyone, I was screamin' and screamin' and no one was comin'. So I ran, I ran right down to the bottom and out those gates and all the while walkers were chasin' me._

_I was out the prison and runnin' through the tree's and by the time I noticed I'd lost them, I was so far away from the prison I couldn't even see it in the distance. I was lost in that forest and I had no idea where I was and all of a sudden I start hearin' voices. A gunshot and someones shouting._

_""Take that you bitch," They say._

_So I take off to the voices and there's this guy and he see's me and there's this smile on my face and he gets out this walkie talkie and mumbles somethin' about fightin' into it. I'm gettin' real scared now so he comes up to me and grabs my wrist and says something 'bout takin' me away and all I can think of is you and that time with Randell and what they did to those girls._

_So I'm yankin' and he's grippin' me tighter' and tighter' and he yanks my head back, so I kick him and he drop's me and that's when I see these walkers behind him. And he's got a grip on my neck and I'm panicking 'cause these thing's are comin' closer and he don't even know. So I scream and he looks behind him, and then I'm runnin' away from him, whoever the hell he was, and I run for so long and then there's you and that's it."_

Daryl sat back, stunned,

"Who were the fuckers?" He asked, clenching his fists. He'd kill them.

"I don't know, but what If they come back, what if they followed me?" Carol pulled the sheets up to her neck, visibly frightened.

"They do that, I'll kill 'em," He hoped his reassuring words would take the terror from her face but it didn't so he collected her up into a hug. "They ain't comin' back,"

She pulled away first, avoiding his eyes as she found her shirt and pulled it over her head. She searched for her other clothes and Daryl just watched her.

She felt him grab her hand and she looked up at him, he was staring sincerely into her eyes, his calloused thumb ran over her hand.

"They ain't comin' back," She nodded and he dropped her hand, picking up his crossbow and exiting the cell.

...

Carol sat by Lori's grave, she talked a lot to Lori. It was hard to talk to Maggie because of the age difference, and she had been close to Lori. She kept a pistol by her side incase any walkers stumbled upon her.

"He's gonna teach me how to hunt," Carol smiled at the wooden cross as she documented her 'relationship' with Daryl. "He's everything I need,"

"Who is?" Daryl asked, looping his crossbow onto his arm.

"What?" Carol looked up confused.

Daryl just shrugged as he walked off, Carol scrambling up and pattering after him into the forest.

They wandered around, attempting to be silent as they trawled the undergrowth looking for potential meals. Daryl stopped abruptly, make Carol flinch and forget her footwork, causing dry leaves to crunch and Daryl to turn around; scolding her with his eyes.

He pointed to a group of three walkers, feasting on the carcass of a deer, pulling apart its flesh and yanking out bloody strings of intestines. He gestured for her to stay there as he went to take care of the problem.

Carol watched him stalk the ground, silent as the fog rolling in on the forest floor. She turned, looking up at the tree's covering the sky.

Abruptly a hand clamped down over her mouth, Daryl, teaching her a lesson about not looking where she was going or wandering away.

"We meet again," The voice sent shivers down her spine and she froze. It wasn't Daryl.

Her captor span her around, revealing his brown hair and black rimmed glasses once again, a gun pressed to her gut.

"Don't talk, screaming will bring more of those things," He talked, hushed. It was hard to say whether he had seen Daryl or not. "You'll take me to where you're other friends are and you're going to look fucking happy while doing it." He snarled in her ear.

Carol couldn't take him back to the prison, he'd kill them all, bring friends. She was waiting for Daryl to get back but there was no sign of him, how far had she wandered?

She racked her brain for an excuse, a way to save the group.

"I'm infected." She mumbled.

"You're what?" The man growled, winding her as he shoved the gun further into her stomach.

"Infected, bitten. I could turn at any point. I'd kill you before I could take you to them," She looked him dead in the eye and made a show of staring at his neck and licking her lips.

Her guard debated her lie. She prayed her acting was convincing.

It was.

Kicking her shins, he forced Carol to her knee's, placing the gun between her eyes. The cool metal stung her like fire but was as cold as ice. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing tears to stay in.

"I'm doing this execution style," She couldn't help but notice the pleasure in his voice as he made the statement, clicking the safety off.

"No you fuckin' ain't," A voice came from behind.

Carol's captor turned to see Daryl Dixon train a crossbow straight at his head.

"Daryl," Carol breathed a sigh of relief as the gun was lowered from her head. She took her opportunity and snatched the gun from his hand, stumbling backwards as she pointed it at her abductor. Confused and alarmed he raised his hands above his head as Daryl advanced.

"You okay?" He asked and Carol nodded, her arms stretched out as she followed her target.

"Wait, did you say Daryl?" Their victim asked, his voice high pitched and desperate.

"Maybe, what's it to you?" Daryl growled, aggravated.

The man on the floor began to laugh uncontrollably, Daryl walked in and kicked him in the chest, making Carol flinch.

"If you're Daryl Dixon," He wheezed, curled into the feotal position. "Then there's someone you're gonna want to meet."

Carol stared, confused, the gun in her hands trembling. A cold feeling of steel pressed against her throat and her eyes grew wide. Her gun dropped to the floor as a man pulled himself to her from behind, the knife at her throat laying there nonchalantly.

"Daryl," She said, her voice breathy.

Daryl looked up, his crossbow following, a look of anger and annoyance on his face. Quickly, it melted away, the crossbow dropping to his side as Daryl slowly shook his head, shuffling back a few paces before falling onto the leaves,

"What? Ain't you got a hug for your brother?" Merle Dixon chuckled, never moving the knife from Carol's neck.


	8. Bruises

Carol woke up in a room, an actual room, with four walls and a double bed and a window. The first thing she thought was that she was waking up from a horrific nightmare, in someone elses bed...

She attempted to sit up and was met with a metal clang, a pair of hand cuffs around her wrists, she stared at them, shocked and scared.

What had they done to her?

After Daryl obliged in Merle's request for a brotherly hug, Merle had knocked her out cold.

What had Merle and_ Daryl_ done to her while she was handcuffed to that bed, beads of sweat formed on Carol's brow as she thrashed, trying to escape the steel shackles. She rolled over, her arm jutting out at an odd angle as she attempted to free herself. That when she saw what was on the bed side table, a beer bottle, a white rose with a yellow center jutted out of it. As soon as Carol laid eyes on the Cherokee Rose she knew she was safe.

She sighed, her wrists sore as she relaxed on the bed. The door opened a crack and Daryl walked in, wearing fresh clothes but still looking mucky as usual.

"Daryl!" Carol exclaimed breathlessly, "I was tied up and I thought...I was scared."

Daryl stopped twiddling the key in his hand and look up at her, immobile on the bed.

"What'd you think?" He asked, narrowing his eyes.

Carol averted her eyes, absentmindedly crossing her legs.

"Wait, you think I_ raped_ you?!" Daryl dropped his hands to his sides, glancing at the Cherokee Rose one the table, trying to mask the look of pain on his face.

"Well, not you..." Carol look back at Daryl.

Daryl's face quickly turned to a look of anger.

"You think_ Merle_ raped you? _You think my brother raped you_?!" Daryl growled, his hand clenching the key for Carol.

"No, it isn't like that!" Carol tried to sit up again and was pulled back down by her cuff.

Daryl stepped closer to her, slowly, and angrily.

"Damn right it ain't like that, there's is no way he'd do that lady, you ain't worth his _spit_." And with that last line Daryl dropped the key he had been clenching in his hand, the bloodied key slipped to the floor as Daryl exited the room.

She knew it was a foolish thing to accuse Daryl of, but from the way he bristled she wouldn't put it past Merle. Never would she put it past Merle.

The last time she had seen the brothers together was years ago, but they were trouble. Merle could twist Daryl around his little finger and Merle's little finger had more criminal activity in it then a jail cell.

...

"I gotta get back to my group Merle," Daryl sighed, sitting down on an arm chair. An actual armchair.

"_Your _group? That ain't your place Daryl, you got some bitch ass girl and that's it," Merle seethed, "They ain't me, they ain't your brothers,"

Daryl looked shamefully at the floor, they may not have been his brothers but they were his family. Blood was blood to a Dixon though and it they weren't your blood, they weren't your anything.

"Keep your hoe, if you're willing to share," He winked at Daryl, whose face soured.

"You shut the fuck up about her," Daryl felt sick, he couldn't get out of his head the time Merle had made_ him_ share. Not only verbal threats were issued to Daryl but crossbows and knives also fell into the equation.

Merle squared up to his little brother, like he had done many times before, before he knocked him to the ground, before he bloodied him.

"You're pussy whipped little brother." Merle whispered. "You ain't anything anymore, you was always a coward and you always will be. All the time Daddy tried to toughen you up, you ran and hide. You were such a pussy, such a fucking pansy ass coward."

"I ain't like that no more," Daryl retorted.

"Nah, you just go around looking for little girls, taking care of babies and doing fuck all with some skank!" Merle picked upon everything his brother had told him.

"It ain't like that man," Daryl sighed.

"You're sighing like a little bitch," Merle turned away from Daryl, surprising him when he turned around and struck him across the face, knocking him to the floor.

For the first time since his childhood, Daryl was once again terrified of his family.

...

When Carol woke again the handcuffs were gone, so was the Cherokee Rose. She could hear mumbling in the other room, she sat up and pulled on a fresh orange jumper and some jeans.

"You gonna let her treat you like some fuckin' slave?" Merles voice growled.

"No man, no fuckin' way," Carol heard Daryl reply, he sounded groggy somehow, like he'd just woken up.

Carol slid off the bed and into the other room, streaming up to Daryl and wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," She pleaded, "It was so wrong of me to accuse that." She kissed his cheek and moved to his mouth, he pulled away.

She noticed that his mouth was bleeding from a cut on his lip. Something wasn't right, she back away a few steps, sharply turning her head to look at Merle, a look of malice in his eyes.

"You gonna let her accuse us of somethin' as henious as that?" Merle smirked, overemphasizing the word 'heinous' as if he relished in the meaning.

Daryl had grabbed her wrist now and she cried out in pain from the bruises that hadn't healed.

"Not a chance brother," Sharply, he hit Carol across the face, her eyes smarting as she stumbled to the floor.

Daryl stared at Carol, a blank expression on his face as Merle swung an arm round his shoulders but inside, Daryl was crying out in pain from bruises that hadn't healed.


	9. Thicker Than Blood

Daryl's eyes never left hers as Merle swaggered up to him and swung a hand around his shoulder, sweeping him towards the door.

Caryl had propped herself up on the floor as she recovered from the blow.

"Come on little brother," Merle laughed, "We'll leave your bitch here, come and see Woodbury,"

Carol wondered what Woodbury was but decided she didn't want to stay and find out. As soon as they were out the door she scrambled to her feet. She was not going to let another son of a bitch push her around like Ed did, it gutted her to think of Daryl as anything like Ed but she decided that leaving was for the best. Absently she touched her face where he had hit her, feeling tears prick at her eyes she fought them back.

She pulled her knife out of her combat boot for protection, thank God they didn't take it from her. She began looking for a way to get out of the domestic prison while making the least noise. She could get out of here and find a vehicle, walking if she had no other choice. She would get away and make her way back to the prison. She had done it once before, they couldn't be that far away from where they left.

**...**

Carol sighed, she had explored all three rooms of the 'house' she seemed to be imprisoned in and there seemed to be no way out. The front door was locked, as were all the windows. If she was going to escape this place she would need to take a more drastic approach rather then attempt to pick locks with her knife.

Walking back into the bedroom she had woken up in she found the top she had been wearing before. Then, taking arm fulls of books she began to empty a bookshelf, heaving Tolstoy and Steinbeck onto the floor. Once the bookcase was empty she began to climb it. It was stone and built into the wall, it reminded her of some sort of dungeon, an apt comparison.

Reaching the top of the bookcase, Carol crouched to avoid banging her head of the rafters. Wrapping her fist in the top she had picked up, she drew back her arm and punched the arched, small window at the top of the wall. It smashed and Carol finched as the glass cut her hand, even with her top for protection, her hand smarted as blood rushed through the top. Carol swung one leg out of the cramped window, ready for freedom.

The door opened.

"The hell you doin'?" Daryl asked, taking in the books that littered the floor and Carol's escape parallel to the door.

Carol drew her knife and held it towards her perpetrator.

"You get away! You bastard!" Carol snarled.

Daryl advanced towards her, unafraid, his hand outstretched.

"Carol," He began.

"You come any closer and I'll cut that hand off." Carol began to tremble, she was letting her facade slip.

"Listened lady, I'm sorry yeah?" Carol noticed his hand grip his crossbow.

"You ain't what I thought you were Daryl, you didn't care like I thought you did." Carol mumbled, the hand that held the knife relaxed slightly.

Daryl was getting frustrated, he brought his hands to his face then ran them through his matted hair.

"Don't you get it woman?!" He grabbed one of the rows on the bookshelf with an audible slam, causing Carol to grip the window pane to steady herself.

"If I didn't do that, If I han't hit you..." Daryl looked down, showing a tiny slither of shame before looking back up at her. "If I didn't show him that I own you, he woulda done a hell of a lot worse to the both of us."

Daryl didn't need to tell her how he knew that. Daryl didn't need to tell Carol about the girls that Merle brough home, or the girls Merle had 'given' to Daryl. Daryl didn't need to tell Carol about how their Daddy used to make Merle exert his power over him using a thick leather belt. Or how, if Merle didn't leave enough bruises or send Daryl crawling for the floor then they'd both get the beating, each trying to desperately hold on to their love for each other through it all, blood runs thicker than water.

"Where is that son of a bitch?" Carol asked, afraid he was going to walk back through the door with his seedy grin and drag her down.

Daryl's face contorted.

"Don't you fuckin' say that 'bout my brother," He growled, Carol swung her other leg out the window read to jump, "He's not around!" Daryl exclaimed, making Carol freeze. "That's why I came back for you."

Carol stayed frozen._ Note to self: Don't insult Merle, even if he is an abusive, racist, prick._

"Come down, I ain't gonna hurt ya," Daryl muttered, beckoning to her like a cat in a tree.

The last thing Carol wanted was to subsist on Daryl. She wanted independence.

"Now why don't I trust you?" Carol said sarcastically, remembering Daryl's outbursts.

"You know me," Daryl spoke softly for once.

"The hell I do!" Carol shrieked, "I know you're angry and I know you're violent," She picked on the weakness, the fear.

"Trust, you ain't ever seen me angry," Daryl growled, extending his hand to her.

He frightened her, if she hadn't seen him angry by now, she was worried about what he could do when he was. What he could do to her.

But she wanted to be independent.

"Come on now," Daryl beckoned to her, "I gotta show you this place, they've got twinkies and everythin',"

So, avoiding Daryl's hand, she swung her legs back inside and slid down the bookshelf. Still pressing herself up against the cold stone, away from Daryl. Awkwardly, he curled back in the hand he had intended to help her down with.

"What the hell happened to the window?" Andrea stood gawping in the doorway. "The Governor's gonna be so pissed."


	10. Twinkies

**Short Chapter, enjoy :) Thanks for the feedback, it really inspires me :) **

**Extra points to whoever can guess what Merle forced Daryl to do.**

Carol stumbled forward with shock, losing her footing as she almost slipped to the floor. Daryl caught her elbow and wrapped a hand around her shoulders to support her. Remembering the last time he laid his hands on her Carol quickly shook him off, using the bookshelf behind her for support.

"Andrea, you were dead!" Carol shrieked, exasperated.

"Hmm, from what I hear, so were you," the corners of Andrea's lips curled up in a smile as she folded her arms.

Tears sprang to Carol's eyes as she realized that, when she thought Andrea had been killed, she had left to escape. Instead, she had really left a helpless Andrea pinned under a dead walker, to fend for herself. Eight months later, and here she was. Andrea probably hated Carol immensely, she probably thought she was a bitch, she probably blamed her for everything,

"I don't blame you for anything," Andrea advanced towards Carol, her brows knitting together when she saw the tears of guilt welling in Carol's eyes.

Carol nodded, taking in a deep breath to push back her tears, Andrea wrapped her slim, tanned arms around Carol's pale shoulders. Enveloping her into a hug, it felt rigid.

Daryl looked on protectively. Merle had taken Daryl to see her as soon as they left the house. Daryl wasn't exactly sure why Merle was so excited to see a woman he had once referred to as 'nothing more then a tightly wound, frigid, dyke who would castrate ya in a heartbeat.'

Upon re-meeting her, Daryl resorted to his old introverted ways around his brother: A quick head bob and a piercing glare.

"I just left you," Carol shook her head vigorously, disgusted with herself.

Andrea grabbed Carol's shoulders.

"You listen to me, it was not your fault, it wasn't anyone's fault. I looked dead and if you hadn't thought I was dead and come back for me? We'd probably both be dead, okay?" Andrea finished her lecture and released Carol. "I would never have come here," She smiled.

Andrea backed off slightly when, as if on cue, the door re-opened. A tall, handsome man with neatly kept hair and a hand on his gun stepped in the room. Daryl moved towards Carol.

Daryl had met The Governor before, he sat Daryl down and explained what had happened. That Merle had been looking for him, had made his way from the farm to the forest where he ran into the pair of them, that the man who found Carol was named Milton and he had recognised Carol from a description Merle gave him. Apparently he was just trying to keep her safe.

Daryl thought it was bullshit. But he knew better then to question the motives of anyone could control Merle.

The Governor walked in the room and swung a hand around Andrea's waist, a wide grin spread across her face and she covered his hand with her own. Daryl raised an eyebrow as The Governor nodded at him.

"Don't you worry 'bout that window Carol," Carol's eyes widened as she realized this mysterious man was talking to her, "You come along with me and Andrea, Daryl can come too if he likes," He talked about Daryl as if he wasn't even there. Daryl didn't like that.

"Daryl think's it'd be better if he could talk to Carol, alone," Daryl announced, agitated.

The Governor's expression didn't change.

"Might be an idea to spend some more time with your brother," The Governor all but demanded. "We take care of people here, and Carol seems like good people," The Governor smiled charmingly and Carol couldn't help but timidly smile as well.

"Where is Merle?" Daryl stepped in between Carol and The Governor. "You reckon I take Carol and look for him?"

Daryl didn't really want to take Carol anywhere near Merle ever again in his life. He wasn't going to pretend he wasn't afraid of his brother, he wasn't going to pretend that his brother had contributed to the ruining of his childhood and he wasn't going to pretend Merle was a good person. But they did have a bond only brothers could have, Merle had never hurt him. Not on purpose.

He had forced Daryl to do terrible things, he had beaten Daryl, but only when he was drunk and he always regretted it in the morning. However, that was nothing compared to his Pa. His Dad would never have lain a hand on Merle and the amount of nights Merle had hidden his little brother under his own bed to protect him from their father when he returned home drunk and angry, were uncountable.

No, Daryl didn't_ really_ want to take Carol anywhere near Merle.

The Governor looked at Andrea with a piercingly sexual gaze. Daryl gave the odd couple a look of disgust, transferring it over to Carol when he caught sight of her adoring gaze.

"Yeah, that's a good idea. You go take a look by the perimeter, I'm sure he'll be around there," The Governor never took his eyes off of Andrea.

Daryl grabbed Carol's wrist, not caring that she tried to pull away, he just held tighter. He didn't want Carol to be alone, or it may have been he didn't want to be without Carol.

"How about_ you_ go Daryl," He heard the The Governors deep voice imprint on his mind. "On your own."

Slowly, Daryl met The Governor's gaze.

"I don' wan' her to be alone," Daryl shifted his head in the direction of Carol, who looked at him, disgusted.

"I don't wanna be alone with you, Daryl," Carol sneered, Daryl dropped her wrist.

"Why?!" Daryl barked back.

Carol touched her face lightly before dropping her hand to her side, staring at Daryl's clenched fist and backing away a couple paces.

Andrea and The Governor looked on, confused at the situation.

Daryl stared at Carol, thinking of how he had taken away all the trust she had placed in him with the flick of his wrist. Anger burned inside Daryl's stomach, his knuckle's turning white and his jaw clenched. Snatching up his crossbow Daryl stormed out the house, looking for his brother, yanking the door closed with an audible slam.

The Governor sighed as he strolled towards Carol, throwing an arm round her shoulders and leading her away.

"Now Carol," He said smiling saucily, "You like Twinkies?"


	11. What a Dixon Wants

**Very short chapter, keep the feedback coming guys! It's brilliant! Any thoughts on Daryl's mysterious childhood? Holler if you want another chapter up tonight :)**

The Governor sidled up to Milton in the basement of his 'house'. He had left Carol with Andrea enjoying her first twinkie in over a year.

"She was right" Milton looked up from the Walker he was injecting a certain solution into.

"What?" He asked absentmindedly.

"Andrea, she was right?" The Governor flicked a groaning Walker, minus a jaw, in the head. "Our people, they're beginning to see Walkers as something safe, something fun. They don't know the fights are staged, they just think we can handle everything."

"Well, Isn't that a good thing?" Milton crossed the room and set a boiling tube on a rack.

"No," The Governor cut in front of him, "We can't handle everything, the fear is always good. We need to instill that back into people."

Milton stopped, staring confused at The Governor.

"So, what do you propose?" Milton raised a quizzical eyebrow.

The Governor didn't reply, he just nodded to Milton whose jaw dropped and then exited the room.

**...**

"Oh my God," Carol put her hand over her mouth.

Andrea leaned forward, a grin on her face.

"This is amazing," Carol mumbled as she took another bite of the snack food. Her eyes rolling back in her head as the almost orgasmic taste of the cake filled her mouth.

Andrea laughed as she watched Carol scarf down the twinkie, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and swallowed.

"This whole place is amazing," Carol gestured to the village that had been built up around her out of nothing.

"He's really made a beautiful place for us," Andrea smiled affectionately at nothing in particular.

Carol gave a tight smile, she knew what Andrea's playful grin meant and couldn't handle the feeling of compression on her chest as she realized she probably wouldn't smile like that again, at least not with Daryl. She felt used, she had given herself away so easily to a man who would hit her. She couldn't help feeling deja vu.

"Beautiful," Carol agreed, nodding vigorously, blocking the thought from her mind.

Andrea and Carol sat on the large stretch of grass that ran up the middle of the rows of houses that lined 'Woodbury'. Carol looked around briefly but she couldn't see Daryl anywhere around the 'village' she wondered where he was.

Mainly so she could avoid him further, she was terrified to see him, to be anywhere near him. The trust between them had dispersed into a thin veil of something that vaguely resembled their obligations to help each other. Apart from that, Carol hated to say that she was scared. Although she never wanted to give up on Daryl, she felt as if all the anger he had inside him was going to be released sometime soon. And on her. She did not think his brother was a justification to striking her though, especially after her lifetime of abuse with Ed.

**...**

"Don't you fuckin' tell me what to do," Merle held his brother up against a wall by his neck, clenching it as Daryl spluttered and gasped for air.

"I ain't...tellin'...nothin'" Daryl wheezed.

Collapsing onto the floor as Merle released his choke hold, Daryl rubbed his throat. There would be familiar bruises speckling his neck soon.

"'You're gonna do exactly what I say, you fuckin' hear me?" Merle towered over Daryl, he was slumped on the floor.

How dare his brother talk to him like that, where'd he grow that fuckin' back bone? He'd do whatever when they were kids...and Merle meant _whatever_.

"I didn't tell you to hit her you fuckin' prick, you fuckin' tryna pin that on me?" Merle sneered.

Daryl spat blood from the beating he'd just received.

"If I didn't do it, you sure would've," Daryl grunted. "And it'd have been fuckin' worse for her,"

Daryl felt his rib crunch under Merle's thick military boot, he doubled up in pain.

Merle grabbed hold of his face.

"I've done nothin' but look out for ya little brother," Merle said sincerely. "Got ya laid, got ya high, got ya a fuckin' 'get out of jail free card' from Pa's fuckin' beatings. An' it fuckin' hurts seein' ya get pushed around by some bitchy lil pin cushion." Merle threw Daryl's head down and climbed back up to patrol the wall from which he came. "No one will ever care about you Daryl, you've only got me," He shouted down.

But Daryl had already left, looking for Carol.

Merle sighed.

"A Dixon does what a Dixon wants," He said to no one, he had hoped him and his father would have been able to teach Daryl that.

...

Carol saw Daryl marching towards them when he was still the size of an ant, when she saw the twisted look on his face and the way he strode towards her, she scrambled upwards, looking for somewhere to hide. She never imagined she would be hiding from Daryl Dixon but in that moment it was the only thing she wanted to do.

"Sorry Andrea, I-I've got to, to do, to go, some-somewhere," Andrea looked at Carol quizzically, turning to spot Daryl and her eyebrows knit further together.

"Is it Daryl?" Andrea asked, positively perplexed.

Carol didn't answer the question, instead, she strolled away. Watching as Daryl stopped and stared at her as she crossed to The Governor's pavilion. Nervously rapping on the door, Carol turned to see Daryl resume his powerful walk towards her, he had some purpose. As Daryl neared her she frantically pounded on the door, staring around for other means of escape.

Suddenly, the door opened and The Governor stood in front of Carol, towering over her with a devilish grin. Carol all but fell into his muscular arms.

"Carol," He smiled mischievously, "Just the lady I wanted to see," He stood back and welcomed her into the house.

Carol nodded vigorously, accepting his invitation and stepping inside the house. The Governor gave a cheerful wave and smiled at Andrea who rose up on her knees to eagerly wave back. The Governor retreated into his house, turning his back on Daryl who was just approaching.

Then slammed the door in his bloody, bruised face.


	12. Black

**Another chapter for you all! Hopefully my writing will be good enough to get me to pass my English exam, so be expecting more practice uploaded as the exam date gets nearer! I love all your reviews! I also love your ideas so please feel free to contact me :)**

"Thanks, I just couldn't be out there right now," Carol sat down at The Governors large mahogany table as he poured her a drink.

She picked up the glass and swirled around its contents, Carol wasn't really a big drinker but she took a swig anyway.

"Any reason why?" The Governor asked as he took a sip of his own drink.

Carol shook her head, not wanting to explain the situation but she subtly touched her face, cheeks burning.

The Governor raised his eyebrows and took another sip from the glass he was holding.

"Sure you don't wanna talk?" The Governor moved his hand over Carol's sympathetically.

She bowed her head and moved her hand from his warm touch to slide it into her lap.

"I just wonder if the guys at the prison are missin' us, me an' Daryl." She slowly shook her head, not seeing The Governor note something down in a black leather book. "I jus' think Daryl's the only one who would miss me at all, and even now he doesn't seem to care,"

"I'm sorry 'bout that," The Governor stood and smiled at her, "The people here are gonna take good care of you, an' I'm sure Daryl just wants to spend some time with his brother,"

Carol smiled pathetically as she tried to put the thought of Daryl and Merle together as far away from her mind as possible.

"So, you don't think anyone'll be missin' ya?" The Governor asked, crossing the room to admire some ornament on a bookshelf.

Carol looked up, confused. That seemed a bit of a weird question to her, but she put it down to the fact she had to take everything with a grain of salt since the world went to shit.

"Urm, I'm sure people will, yes." Carol reached for her glass so she would have something to occupy herself with.

"I don't," The Governor turned to lean on the bookshelf, staring at the back of Carol's head as he watched her whip around. "You should stay here, where people will appreciate ya,"

The chair slid from the table as Carol stood up abruptly, crossing towards the door.

"I think I'll go," Within two strides The Governor blocked Carol's exit.

"Everyone's got someone, Carol. Daryl's got Merle." Carol backed up into the table, The Governors voice had turned dark, sinister. "Ain't no one gonna miss you now,"

_"Aw shit."_ Carol thought as the marble statue The Governor had been admiring was revealed from behind his back and collided with her skull, and then it was black.

**...**

Daryl watched as the door shut in his face, his cheeks burning with anger. He just wanted to tell Carol how sorry he was, how he didn't realize how thick water could run or how thin blood could. He knew he loved Merle and that Merle would never try to do anything to hurt him, all Merle wanted to do was make him a man like their Pa. Carol would never do anything to hurt him either, and that was anything at all. She would let him shout at her, she would make him feel like one of the group, she would make him forget his past. That made the difference between his kin...and someone he loved.

**...**

"One more game," Andrea laughed, "Just one,"

Daryl, Merle and Andrea sat around a circular table, playing poker as the night closed in around them. Daryl hadn't seen Carol all day, Merle had told him she was helping The Governor plan some 'domestic shit'.

"That's three games to me, an' I ain't backin' down," Daryl smirked, collecting in the cards.

"That's only 'cause you're a fuckin' card sharp," Merle sneered as he accused Daryl of cheating.

Daryl just laughed, remembering the days they would count cards in casino's and use slight of hand tricks while playing poker. It was always a good tactic unless you got caught, Daryl couldn't count the times him and Merle would end up running down back alleys away from 6ft skin heads carrying Louisville Sluggers.

"Only practicing what you preach brother," Daryl used his arms to collect another pile of chips and start to stack them into piles.

"You best bring your A game, sugar tits," Merle purred to Andrea, she wrinkled her nose in disgust at the comment but all Merle did was laugh as he dealt the cards. Using his thumb to slide off the top card to each of the players, the movement was fluid and practiced, it was obvious Merle gambled a little too much.

"Only one more game though boys," Andrea addressed the players. "Isn't The Governor hosting another event tonight? Said it'd be extra special?"

...

Carol had a thick line of masking tape across her mouth, she mumbled into it wide eyed as one of The Governor's henchmen tied her hands behind her back with some thin rope. He looped it around once, twice, three times as Carol struggled violently. She kicked her legs together like a fish as she attempted to escape. The man tying her down laughed as he stood, watching as she lay immobile, scanning the crowd of people for Merle or Andrea, for Daryl.

The Governor smiled lovingly at her as he crossed the arena she was lying in the middle of, eight fully alive and mobile walkers, chained up, were placed strategically around her.

"Ladies and Gentleman!" The Governor threw his hands up, a cheer erupted from the crowd, "One, very brave, very beautiful, very willing participant, has volunteered to take on eight biters!"

The crowd stood and began to scream, clap and yell, increasingly excited. The thought of a Gladiator fight was so enticing for the crowd, the society of people who had fallen so deeply into the idea of the whole world going to shit, they had picked up the habits of ancient Rome.

"She has just five minutes to escape her bonds, Houdini style, before we release, the, walkers!" The Governor grinned and signaled to another man who began to play music over some speaker. He then threw a knife down beside Carol and the game began.

...

"No." Merle answered abruptly. "There ain't one on tonight."

Andrea stared back, her eyebrows knotting together.

"Yeah, there is," She smiled perplexed. "I heard him talkin' 'bout it today,"

"You've got it wrong," Merle stared at her, his face somber. "It's not tonight."

"What ain't tonight?" Daryl asked, eyes flicking from his brother to Andrea.

Andrea turned to Daryl, her eyes sparkling.

"Oh The Governor hosts these staged events with- ow!" Andrea glanced at Merle who was gripping her wrist tightly.

Daryl looked from Andrea's face to where Merle was gripping her hand.

"With. What?" Daryl asked, frowning, his voice low.

"Walkers." Andrea replied, pulling free from Merle. "They're good to watch, no one gets hurt." She looked back towards Daryl.

Daryl nodded slowly, letting it sink it.

"That's fuckin' crazy," Daryl barked.

"That's what I thought, but it isn't, it's good for the people," Andrea tilted her head towards Merle, "There's one on tonight, but your brothers usually in them,so I've no idea whose in tonigh," She looked to Merle for confirmation but he stood up, his jaw locked.

"There ain't one on tonight," Merle looked from his brother to Andrea, making sure they both knew. "Now, stay here and we'll play another fuckin' game."

Daryl stared at his brother, they had been playing poker for two hours now and it was starting to get boring but Merle was still trying to keep them involved. As if trying to keep them there.

"Merle, stop playing around," Andrea also stood up, "Who's in the arena tonight?"

Merle strode up to Andrea, allowing the knife to be released from the metal contraption as he held it up to her.

"There ain't, no one, there," Merle growled.

Daryl stood up.

"Carol."

...

Carol used her legs to push herself towards the knife, the blade glistening with the spotlight that gleamed onto her sweating body. She pulled the ground under her as she neared the knife using the fingers on her bound hands to grasp the edge of the blade and twist it down, nicking her skin as she started a slow sawing motion through the rope, driving the biters around her wild as blood pulsed down her wrist, they strained on their chains and she knew she only had so long before they were released. She felt hot tears stain her cheeks as she strained with the knife, exhaling thankfully as the rope began to fray and pull apart.

"Twenty seconds!" The Governors voice boomed across the arena.

Carol began to panic, not caring about the tiny chunks of skin she was gouging out herself with her frantic attempt the saw through the rope.

Finally the knife cut through the remaining cords of the rope and Carol fet her hands pull apart, she mumbled through the masking tape with relief and she stumbled to her feet, clumsily. She gripped the knife as she turned to face the eight walkers. She knew the knife was blunt and there was no way she would survive the fight she was about to enter.

"Release the biters!" The dreaded voice announced, Carol's blood ran cold. And she froze.

The chains around two walkers necks were released and they began to stumble towards her, the cage the enclosed them prevented them from going after the crowd. That and the smell of blood.

Ripping the masking tape off of her face, Carol gripped the knife, closed her eyes, and screamed.

...

Daryl tore through Woodbury, trying to locate the music that boomed through the village. He span around, Andrea close beside him and Merle attempting to hold the both of them back.

Guess a metal arm really slows you down.

"Where are they?" Daryl grabbed Andrea by the shoulders and shook her, knowing there was only little time left.

"Follow me," Andrea took off running and Daryl followed closely at her heels, turning around while running to fire an arrow at his brothers feet, warding him off.

A piercing scream cut through the loud music, causing Daryl to stop. Causing Daryl's heart to stop. Causing Daryl's blood to stop running.

Daryl could see the light and the fog now, like some 80's rave. He sprinted off in front of Andrea, rounding the corner to see the barbaric Gladiator fight that was taking place. Carol in the middle.

He ran up the the cage, looking for an entrance. She didn't see him.

Watching as Carol stood on a dead walker, using all her strength to pull out the tiny knife that was lodged in its head.

Just as six more walkers began to stumble towards her.


	13. Sophia

"You back the fuck off," Daryl turned to point his crossbow at The Governor's head. Prompting three of his henchmen to draw their weapons and point them in his direction.

After Carol's scream, the crowd had got to their feet, suddenly afraid. All it took was one spectator to panic to throw the whole crowd into pandemonium. The bystanders rose to their feet and flooded down the stage to escape, sweeping The Governors men away in a sea of hysteria.

Andrea aimed her gun to shoot off the lock of the big wire cage Carol was desperately fighting inside. Bursting in Andrea took out four of the walkers advancing on Carol, but she had already been thrown to the floor by one of the walkers. As it clawed and bit towards her face Carol drove the small knife between the walkers eyes, feeling the squelch as it hit the biters brain and it fell limp, another trying to climb up over the corpse. Carol scream as she attempted to throw the walker off.

Andrea tried to stead her gun to get to the walkers head.

"Carol stop moving!" She yelled but couldn't be heard over the screams of terrified congregation of people.

Carol thrashed on the ground under the dead weight as the walker tried to bite at her neck, she was completely powerless.

Suddenly, a arrow pierced the walkers head, temple to temple, the body went limp and Carol breathed a sigh of relief as Daryl burst through the door. Pulling up the walkers he shifted them off of Carol, yanking her tiny body up with only one hand. Carol felt a sharp pain in her side as she was hoisted to her feet, she clutched her side as she stumbled forward, Daryl catching her.

"Y'okay? Ya bit?" Daryl asked a hint of fear in his voice.

She shook her head "No, it's my rib," She said, probing the area.

"We gotta get ya out of her, Hershal'll fix you up," He took her hand to pull her along and felt her intake breath.

"Ya need me to carry you?" He asked, somber.

She shook her head and he took hold of her petite wrist to yank her out of there. Out of danger. He was stupid to think that his brother would lead him anywhere safe. He wondered where Merle was right now, in the midst of all the commotion, probably beating someone down and getting into the fight.

He dragged Carol along, she went bent over and he kept hearing her obvious winces of pain but he didn't care, he didn't care so long as she was alive, he could care when they were out of there, when they were safe.

Andrea had her gun pointed at The Governor, his hands were up and he was backing away slowly.

Daryl looked to her, to help her.

She shook her head. "Go, take Carol and go!" She demanded with a fierce brutality. "Don't let her stay for me, whatever she says,"

Carol and Daryl blended into the crowd, he guided her safetly back into the 'village center' they could still hear the thumping of the music as they ran to the wall.

"Yer gonna have to jump," Daryl instructed Carol, very aware that The Governor and his men would be upon them in a matter of minutes.

She looked at him shocked, standing there dumbfounded. Acting fast, Daryl grabbed her torso and lifted her upwards, ignoring her shrill cry of pain as he pushed her legs up onto the wall.

"Jump down the other side!" He yelled as if it was obvious.

Daryl stared into the distance, tiny ant like people were running towards them, a shot ran out and Daryl ducked down, flinching away from the noise.

"Now!" He demanded, but Carol still would not leave.

"What about Andrea?" Carol asked, refusing to go.

Daryl felt a pang of guilt run through him, but if they didn't leave now, they wouldn't at all.

"Carol, go!" Daryl lifted his crossbow into action mode as he scrambled up the boxes and thick tires that made up the wall. He stared into Carol's wet, blue eyes as he climbed, willing her to jump down.

He reached the top of the wall and immediately jumped to the other side, making a heavy thud as he landed. He held his hand out to Carol beckoning her to jump down.

"I can't leave her again," Carol whimpered, staring to go back, knife at the ready.

"Carol!" Daryl demanded, watching as she jerked away from another shot fired at her, "She told us to leave," And with that Daryl reached up and yanked her down, catching her as she fell over the top of the wall and into his muscular arms.

He placed her down and they tore to the left to find shelter in the woods, Carol clutching her bruised ribs as they ran. Glancing behind him Daryl could already see the mysterious figures of The Governor and his men.

...

Andrea had held the gun to The Governors head who smiled at her coyly, watching as her fact twisted in anger.

"You sick fuck," Andrea clicked the safety off of her gun as she walked closer to The Governor,

"I'd be careful what you say, Andrea." The Governor cocked his head and grinned.

Andrea felt the smooth steel of a knife press against her throat. Her eyes widened and The Governor held out his hand for her gun, she obliged.

"I'll look after you blondie," Merle whispered hotly in her ear, Andrea shuddered.

The Governor laughed out loud as he looked at the empty stadiums.

"Come one boys, we got some rouges to catch," And with that they ran off in pursuit of Carol and Daryl.

...

"Hurry up," Daryl squeezed Carol's wrist tighter as he yanked her through the thick forest, avoiding walkers as much as they were avoiding man. "Come one," Daryl whispered through gritted teeth.

Carol panted and grit her own teeth through the pain, she was in a bad shape, and the striking pain was getting worse with every step they took.

She was slowing Daryl down and they both knew it. Daryl knew that if they were caught, they were going to be killed. He needed to distract them. Alone.

Daryl lead Carol down to a small brook, trickling through the forest. He positioned her under a dense thicket, and put his forehead on hers.

"You listen to me Carol, you stay right here an' wait for me," He leant back and watched as her eyes filled with tears, suppressing her sobs, attempting to keep quiet.

Daryl back up a couple paces, turning to lead them away, when she broke down. Falling to the floor of the tiny river, her trousers soaking.

"Please, please Daryl," She cried, tears swimming down her face. "Don't leave me here, not here, not now, not like Sophia,"

Daryl froze when he heard the name. The name that brought them together. The name that he had failed.

He walked back to her, his feet splashing as he waded towards her, picking her up and looked into her yes,

"I ain't gonna leave you, you ain't Sophia," He watched her intently, "I ain't gonna fail you this time," The last words were not only to reassure her but to clarify to himself that it was never going to happen again.

Without waiting for a reply, he pressed his dry and sun cracked lips to her forehead and then waded away from her. Climbing on to the embankment Carol could hear him shouting, cursing and hollering until his voice was nothing more then a whisper.

Gingerly she touched her hand to her forehead.

_"I ain't gonna leave you, you ain't Sophia," _She felt herself wonder if this was exactly where Sophia had stood all that time ago. She felt herself wonder what she would be doing if Sophia had been found. She felt herself wonder what she would do if she didn't have Daryl to look after her.

_"I ain't gonna fail you this time."_


	14. Spill Blood

**I ADORE YOU ALL! The feedback I've been getting has been fantastic thank you so so sooooo much! More of the Dixon brother's to come and there will be more CALM chapters soon :) **

**I've also just learnt how to put those lines in, so that's a bonus.**

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Standing. She felt like she had been standing for ages, for years. She felt like her daughter must have, alone, scared, wanting to leave. She imagined Daryl, tearing stealthily through the undergrowth, a walker behind him. He doesn't turn, it rips into the muscle of his back and he screams, pinned down by more and more until there isn't anything left. She imagined Daryl, trying to find them, trying to give her a chance, when a shot rings out and a bullet rips through his head, a large ghastly hole as he falls to the ground, limp.

She wasn't about to let that happen to him.

She patted down her damp clothes, searching for a weapon and producing the small blunt knife that The Governor had gifted her with. Clutching the handle, her fingers curled around it into a fist, her knuckles turning white. Tentatively, her body held low as she stalked through the dense forest, she began to search for Daryl. She had yet to hear a gunshot or a cry of pain and that gave her hope, she never heard a cry of pain with Sophia but she certainly heard the shot. That would not be her. That would not be Daryl.

...

"Hold up, you sick fucker," Daryl aimed the crossbow at The Governor's head, his finger was desperate to squeeze the trigger but he wanted to see the looked on the fuckers face as the arrow span towards his head.

The Governor turned, hands in his tight black trousers and grinning.

"Daryl, why are you even doin' this?" The Governor smirked, watching as Daryl's face crunched into an expression of pure rage.

"You used her as a fuckin' sacrifice!" Daryl growled.

"And now we're gonna use you," The Governor smiled, laughing.

Two more men stepped out from the shelter of the thick trees, one pointing a large rifle at Daryl, his bow still trained at The Governor and the other pointing a small revolver at him too. Daryl turned his head rapidly from one man to the other but kept the crossbow trained on The Governor.

"Listen," He said backing away "We know where she is, and we won't hurt her, if you drop your weapon,"

Daryl's head span as he thought about how he left her, left her a sitting duck for them to find. He let his hands go limp and the weapon clattered to the ground. With that, The Governor took his leave, signaling something with his hand.

"Kill him," The Governor began to trot away.

One of the two men rounded the back of Daryl whilst the other kicked his crossbow away from him, Daryl winced at the sound. One man poke in between Daryl's shoulder blades with the nose of his gun.

"Get down," He muttered as he prodded Daryl with the gun.

"Get yer fuckin' hands off me," Daryl spat on the ground by his feet.

The second man grabbed Daryl's arm, he bucked and attempted to throw him off but the man with the rifle swiftly brought the butt of it down on Daryl's shoulder. Daryl's knees buckled at he fell to the ground, crunching under the dead leaves. He growled low through his teeth as the gun was pressed the back of his head.

...

Carol inspected the corpse, pulling the arrow that was deeply embedded in its cranium free with a sickening squelch. Carol tucked it into her show, Daryl would want it back.

She had found the body whilst scouring the forest, the arow was a clear mark as to who had ended their life. Reaching down Carol searched for a weapon, she hit the jackpot when she found a small Python, full of ammunition.

A noise made her jump, a struggle by the sounds of it, ripping of leaves and skidding of shoes and then she heard it.

"Get yer fuckin' hands off me," She knew it was Daryl. The gruff, low voice, agitated.

Silently, her light feel not disturbing any of the leaves that littered the floor, she slipped from tree to tree until she had a crystalline view of the clearing before her. She watched as, violently, one of the men smacked Daryl with the heavy gun. She clasped a hand over her mouth to stop herself from mimicking the pained yelp that came from Daryl's mouth as he sank to the floor in a defeated heap; hit crossbow way beyond his arms reach and no possible way of escape.

Carol watched on as the gun was pointing to the back of Daryl's skull. She had to do something. Something right now.

The click of the safety going off.

The sharp intake of breath as Daryl prepared himself for the shattering pain he was about to endure.

The shot rang out.

He slumped foreward.

Another shot rang out.

The second of the two men hit the ground with a dull thud.

Carol left her arms outstretched, she tried to suppress the shakes that were running through her and the pain she was feeling from the shock of the kickback.

She had just killed two living people.

Daryl fell forward onto all fours, his eyes wide and stupefied. He was expecting death. He wasn't expecting someone to rescue him. He stayed in that position panting heavily for a minute before he crawled foreward and retrieved his crossbow. Getting to his feet, he stood, attempting to make himself look slightly taller to recover from his brief moment of weakness.

Slowly he turned already nodding some kind of thanks to his savior when he looked up to see a shrunken and distraught Carol, shaking with her hands still clutching the gun she had used to murder two people.

They looked at each other, Daryl's eyes softened as he took in her tiny, sparrow like figure, distorted somewhat by the monstrous trees she was stood behind.

He took a gentle step towards her.

"I thought I told you to stay there," He said softly.

At the sound of his low and primal voice, already joking with her, she let her emotion show. Bursting into waves of tears but not letting the gun slip from her rigid hands.

"I killed, I killed them," Daryl rushed up to her, allowing her to fall into his arms this time, allowing her to seek the comfort she needed that he just couldn't give. Most importantly he allowed himself to wrap his arms around her, as much as to run away, he slowly laid one hand across her back and placed the other on top of it.

"You can spill blood," He told her "It'll all be jus' fine," He muttered in reassurance.

After her tears subsided she allowed the Python to drop into the leaves as she drew her hands up and pulled against Daryl's sleeveless, plaid shirt and burying her face in it. Carol took in his earthy, rugged smell, he smelt like home.

"Can you," She looked up to him and then glanced back down, "Will you just hold me?"

Daryl froze at the question, the intimacy that came with - not just hugging someone -_ holding_ someone, scared him but Carol not getting over her first real kills, and falling into depression scared him even more.

He tilted her head up, eyes glistening with tears, sparkling with beauty and fear.

"I will hold you, as long as you like," He mumbled to her. Then, he shouldered his crossbow, holstered the Python she had dropped and scooped up Carol's limp and conquered body into his arms. He thought about how this miniature, exhausted woman had just saved his life, killed two people to save his life.

And with that thought, he made his way out of the forest, the opposite direction to Woodbury.

Holding her all the way.


	15. Our Trust

**I'm not sure how mature you guys are wanting this fic so I've left it HINTED at...for now.**

**Thanks for the reviews, you are ALL brilliant!**

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It had been two days.

It had been two days of non stop walking, two days of eating any leaves or berries that Daryl deemed safe, two days of tiny sips from a half filled water bottle, two days before they reached the highway. After hot wiring a car - thank God for Daryl - it took two more days to find where they were, to find their way back to the prison. The engine cut out about half an hour before they hit the prison and they walked from there; Carol was stumbling a lot, her ribs hurt and the pain bit into her and detracted her concentration, she fell over again and again. So Daryl took hold of her hand, walking a little ahead of her, striding towards the ominous, dark figure of the prison.

Rick and the other survivors were running towards them long before they reached the gate, Hershel limped desperately behind the others, Beth jumped frantically as she tried to decide whether to wait for Father or run towards her missing comrades.

Carol felt Daryl squeeze her hand involuntarily with relief, he waited till she caught with him before he dropped her hand and slid his left arm round her waist. He told himself it was just to support her and that he would do it for anyone, but then he used his right hand to grip hers.

"We made it," Daryl whispered, it had been a long time since she saw him grin like that.

He helped her up the incline towards the prison, getting help from Rick as he caught up with them. Rick stooped to collect Carol into his arms.

"Don't!" Daryl cried, stopping Rick in his tracks, "It's her ribs, might be broke, we need Hershel,"

Rick nodded curtly and the three of them staggered up the hill.

"Where have you been," Rick asked, he sounded irritated but Daryl knew that it was only worry in his voice.

"Merle's alive, took us hostage, fuckin' creep runnin' a town, tried to kill Carol," Daryl gave Rick the run down of events.

He didn't expect Rick to stop dead, nearly dropping Carol who cried out in pain, that made Daryl flinch.

He followed Rick's gaze up to the prison courtyard where a lean woman stood, arms folded.

"Woodbury?" Rick murmured, causing Carol's head to shoot up.

"How did you-?" Carol started, before looking towards the woman as well. "That must be Michonne."

...

They had learned about Michonne from Andrea, from The Governor and from Merle. She had arrived yesterday and had already told the group about Woodbury and The Governor's sick games, about Merle and about Andrea. They hadn't learned about Glen and Maggie, about how they were missing.

"We gotta go lookin' for 'em," Daryl demanded, getting up from his perch on the stairs, raring to go. "Now I'm back I can track 'em,"

Rick issued a calm hand, halting Daryl.

"How about we just stay put for now, we've only just got you an' Carol back," He glanced towards Carol, slumped in the corner.

Rick lowered his voice and moved closer to Daryl.

"She's pretty cut up about losing Glen and Maggie," Rick mumbled, looking sympathetically over at her.

"Yeah," Daryl agreed, "That or the fact I almost let her died,"

Rick nodded slowly, "She won't let Hershel check her out yanno, says she's fine,"

Daryl slowly, very slowly, turned to face Rick who was purposely avoiding his gaze.

"You ain't suggesting?" Daryl let his sentence fade out to a sigh. "Alright, alright," He agreed as he got to his feet.

...

There was a tightness in her chest that felt like it was never going to go away, she sat on the bed shaking, Daryl knelt beside her.

She knew he had to check her over, and he wasn't going to leave until he did. Slowly, she could see him shaking, he rested a hand on her knee but looked foreward expressionlessly. She could see his eyes had dark, charcoal rings around his eyes, he hadn't been sleeping. He wouldn't risk sleeping while she was, he would never leave her vulnerable like he had her daughter. Never.

"Tell me we'll be alright," Carol asked, a hoarseness in her voice as she tried to wipe dried blood from her hands. Blood from walkers and animals and the men she had killed, frantically she scraped.

"Hey, hey," He clutched her hands, "We'll be jus' fine, all of us," He moved to sit next to her.

Carol grimaced as she clutched her chest.

"Lemme take a look," Daryl motioned with his hands towards her chest, his arms faltering as he locked on to her breasts. Flicking his eyes upwards he saw she was nodding.

"Urgh, you need to, yanno," He gesticulated towards her chest again, lowering his voice, "Yer top, you need to, yanno," He moved his eyes to the floor.

Slowly Carol peeled her sticky, mucky clothes from her body, exposing her smooth, tan skin. A smile crawling across her face as she watched Daryl squirm. She laid backwards on the bed as Daryl turned back towards her, her peach colored bra was stained, and bloody but it still kept her small breasts in place.

Daryl leaned over her stretched out body as he attempted to get into a position where he could examine her effectively. Swallowing hard he settled for straddling her tiny body, careful not to put any pressure on her as he hovered above her prone body.

She had been in this position before, but it was a violent horrific position she had been forced into. It wasn't like this. This closeness. This was all new.

Slowly he ran his calloused hands up her abdomen until they were resting just under breasts, he applied gentle pressure of either side, just like Hershel told him to, although Daryl knew full well how to check for broken ribs. He watched her face for any signs of pain, apart from a tiny wince there didn't seem to be any. He could feel the friction the pads of his fingers were creating as he moved them inwards, across her stomach. Looking up at her, their blue eyes met. His hands froze.

"It's jus' a bruise," Daryl quickly removed his hands from her chest.

Carol sat up, propping herself up by her elbows, they sat looking at each other in silence.

Then Carol was crushing her lips into his, she expected him to reciprocate, he usually did. This time he pushed her off, placing both hands on her shoulders and shoving. Her mouth came off of his with a 'pop.'

"Whatta ya doin'?!" He asked standing up and moving away.

Carol didn't seem hurt as she rose onto her knee's

"It's alright," She laughed, a sweet tinkling bell of a laugh.

"Why are you doin' this?" Daryl demanded.

"I jus' wanna thank you," Carol slinked towards him, "You saved my life,"

It made him sick, she was like one of the girl's he grew up with. Those sluts who would try and talk him into bed if he did even the slightest compassionate thing.

"You ain't like that," Daryl pointed an accusing finger at her, "I ain't just gonna screw you,"

Carol laughed again, "You've done it before Daryl, why's today make a difference?"

Daryl turned to go out the room.

"Come on," Carol sighed huskily.

Daryl turned and stormed up to her, fuming.

"You wan' me to pay ya now?" Carol recoiled as Daryl grabbed her arm, "Or later?"

With that he dropped her arm and stormed out of the room.

"Whore," He breathed as he stormed away.

Carol sat on the empty bed and pulled her shirt to cover her exposed chest, she just wanted to show him that she trusted him, that he never really lost that trust, that she understood him and his life and that she needed him. That she needed to validate their closeness, needed to know he wanted her too. She guessed he didn't.

...

It was the night, the blissful quiet of the night, there were no sounds at all. Just the tenebrous, solitary darkness in which Carol resided, staring at the ceiling as she lay on ramshackle camp bed.

The footsteps were heavy, boots on tiled floor, echoing dully around the prison. Carol knew it was him and exhaled, turning onto her side and trying to keep the tears from falling. That's when she heard the cell door open with a metallic screech as Daryl slid inside. Coughing gruffly she heard him toe off his boots and kick them towards the wall. Then she felt a quick flush of cold air as he entered her bed, curling up and mimicking her body, she felt the rough palm of his hand slide across her stomach and push her towards his chest. She gasped sharply as he lightly drew his nails across her smooth, supple stomach to grip her hips.

Slowly Daryl unbuttoned his plaid shirt, slipping it off his shoulders and losing it in the sheets as he buried his dirty mouth in her swan like neck.


	16. Kiss Me Now

They had had sex in silence, like they had done before. Carol really wasn't sure what it meant but he always finished by wrapping her in his huge arms and saying "Go'ta sleep,"

It was the most affectionate thing he'd ever done.

When she woke in the morning he was already gone, the light streamed through the windows and she knew she had overslept. She got dressed and strolled from the cell, waving hello to Beth as she walked passed. The young girl stopped and looked skeptically at Carol.

"Why are you comin' out Daryl's cell?" She asked, leaning foreward to take in the messy bed as she raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, I was jus' cleanin' it," Carol faltered.

"Hmm sure," Beth laughed as Carol's jaw dopped. So Beth wasn't as innocent as she seemed...

She followed the petite young girl into the kitchen where they sat down for a breakfast of powdered eggs on burnt bread. Daryl eyed her as she politely took small mouthfuls of the food, opposing her as he hungrily scarfed down his meal. He didn't even nod to her, he didn't even look at her as he abruptly stood up, dropped his plate in the industrial sink and strode out of the room.

Carol turned around to watch him leave.

"Strange," She mumbled under her breath, "Hey Beth, where's everyone else? They seem to be a little late this morning,"

Beth shook her head as she carried on eating, waiting until she had finished her mouthful before talking.

"They've already been down," She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, "Daryl was the last one,"

Carol frowned.

"Where've they gone now then?" Carol asked, and Beth looked at her confused.

"They're goin' to get Maggie and Glenn..." She said slowly, "They said I couldn't go because they need someone to do the cookin'," She told Carol proudly, "And look after Carl," She giggled.

Outraged, Carol thanked Beth and stormed from the room, breaking into a run as she strode out into the prison yard. She saw Rick, Oscar and Michonne load up the cars and Daryl leaning against a gate, checking his arrows.

The anger sparkled in her gut as she furiously walked up to Daryl.

"Where's my money," She hissed, causing him to look up surprised.

"Wha'?"

"My money, you screw me and then leave me? It was you who called me a whore Daryl, best start treating me like one," Her voice cracked on the last couple of words as she lost her composure, tears sparking.

"You ain't comin'," Daryl began to walk away from her.

"You can't do this Daryl, you can't demand for me to stay here, I can shoot," She tried to redeem herself.

"Only 'cause I taught you woman! We can't have you fuckin' up and putting lives in danger," Daryl yelled, causing Rick to move foreward but Carol stopped him with a shake of her head.

"I ain't gonna screw it up!" Carol cried, she was determined to prove herself, she wasn't just a house wife anymore.

"Exactly," Daryl turned to face her, Rick and Oscar were staring now. "We need to you here to protect Hershel and Beth,"

"Who'll protect me," She whispered, causing Daryl's shoulders to drop and him to sigh deeply.

He turned around slowly and walked back to her, close now.

"Ya don't need protectin'," He muttered, his face somber and expressionless.

Carol felt a wave of nausea course through her, she may never see this man again, the man who had saved her life and shared her bed.

Without a doubt she leant up and quickly kissed Daryl on his pouting lips. She felt Rick's eyes widen as him and Oscar looked on.

Daryl took a step back, horrified. He had trouble showing her he cared when they were on their own, let alone with an audience.

He settled for touching her cheek, just for a second before dropping it to her shoulder.

"Stay safe," He said in a low, thick voice.

Then Daryl turned away and jogged towards his motorbike, got on and drove the couple hundred meters he could before having to stop, just so he could be away from her.

She felt deflated, not wanting to turn and make eye-contact with Rick or Oscar and certainly not Michonne. Silently she turned, making eye contact with Beth and Carl instead, how long had they been there? She felt the colour drain from her face. She didn't understand but she would be strong, she would thrive, instead of running back to the prison like she was going to, she turned and marched over to Rick. She stared straight at him as she laid her weapons on the hood of the car.

"I want to come," She said darkly.

"Carol," Rick started,

"Don't give me that Rick," She kept her gaze on him, "This isn't about Daryl this is about Glenn and Maggie," She clarified.

"You really wanna leave Axel, Beth and Hershel with just Carl to protect them?" Rick asked, he put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it. That was more love in two minutes then Daryl had ever shown her. Rick picked up her weapons and fixed them back into her hands.

"I need him Rick," She sighed, "Don't let him go back to Merle," Her eyes were full of tears and hope.

She didn't wait for his reply as she began to retreat from their conversation, she wasn't going to let Daryl get away this time. She knew he cared, he had to care.

"Daryl," She shouted, he was leaning on his bike and turned at the sound of her voice.

She gestured for him to come back, when he was close enough, she drew her gun on him. At first he faltered, but then he kept coming, he kept coming until he was directly in front of her, the wire gate was the only thing separating them.

"Kiss me now, or I'll show you how good my shooting skills are," She tried to sound direct but she was so scared that he wouldn't, that she let her fear come through in her voice.

Slowly Daryl bent to place his crossbow on the floor, he was very aware of the people watching and the beautiful woman he had pinned as weak, pointing a gun at him and demanding something.

He wrapped his hands around the spaces in the wire to grip the fence, and then moved so his body was pressed against it. Carol dropped the gun immediately with a thud it landed on the grass, placing her hands over his on the fence, and mimicking his body. Then he leant down and pressed his lips against hers, they barely heard the cheers coming from the prison yard, they barely felt the wire of the fence interrupting their kiss. No, they stayed there, mouths interlocked, kissing hard, before, finally Daryl pulled away and without a word turned from Carol, straddled his motorbike and rode away, ready for whatever was going to be thrown at him.

...

"So what was that about?" Rick asked Daryl, hiding his smirk.

Turning, Daryl's eyes bored into Rick, he stayed just staring at him until Rick held his hands up and walked off.

"It ain't nothin'" Daryl growled walking a couple paces behind Rick who was audibly chuckling. "You not see she had a gun on me?" This caused Rick to collapse into peals of laughter.

"Yeah, Carol Peletier had a gun on you," Rick said sarcastically, "Don't you think we would have helped you if we thought she was being serious?" Rick confirmed, stating the obvious.

Rick shook his head and carried on walking, laughing to himself.

Daryl couldn't stand Rick thinking he was any less of a man, he picked up the pace, shifting the crossbow onto his shoulder.

"You ain't seen her shoot," Daryl insisted, "She's a fuckin' firecracker,"

A large grin spread across Rick's face as he turned to face Daryl.

"You like her?" Rick asked.

"Pfft," Daryl snorted, walking ahead.

"Oh man," Rick playfully punched the other man's shoulder, "You like her,"

Daryl didn't turn and just walked purposefully ahead, un-holstering his crossbow and taking out a lone walker. Aggressively he walked up to the prone figure, pulling the arrow free with a squelch.

"Oh man," Rick laughed, happily, as he looked to the sky. He whistled, fascinated, like a school boy.

Daryl spun around, and pointed the walker coated arrow in Rick's direction, speck of blood flying off it.

"Shut up." He growled.


	17. Gone

**Short chapter sorry! Hope you enjoy :) It'll be a lot of fanfiction till February!**

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She sat on the stairs, the baby curled up and asleep in her skinny arms, looking at Carl. Carl who had just locked a new group of people in another block. He paced wildly up and down the empty foyer, Hershel and Beth sat silently in a cell together.

"They'll come back," Carol tried to console him.

"We don't know that," Carl snapped and Carol recoiled slightly.

As if by magic, Beth stood up and walked towards Carl.

"Do you hear that?!" Beth squealed, taking off outside.

"Beth!" Carl proclaimed as she sprinted after the young girl

Carol heard the crunch of gravel on the ground, the roll of a vehicle driving foreward. She nearly dropped the baby in shock and happiness. She leapt from the stairs and hopped down them, careful not to disturb her too much, and out into the open air. Watching as the Volvo rolled languidly into the prison courtyard, carefully and tiredly a long leg stretched out from the car, Maggie. Maggie turned and pulled out Glen, who looked tiny, his face swollen and bloody. Carl gasped, stopping mid-way through her run.

Maggie smiled delicately at Carol as her eyes filled with tears, Glen couldn't smile, he could barely look at her.

Then Rick and Michonne emerged, Michonne's face was expressionless and for once so was Rick's. As Hershel began to help Glen inside and Carol thrust the baby into Maggie's arms with a brief 'I'm so glad you're okay' before running to Rick.

"You stay there," Rick growled to Michonne as she began to walk into the prison. She ignored him.

Carol had ignored everyone's expressions, hell, she had ignored Glen's face. Frantically she looked around, she switched her head from side to side, she ran to the Volvo and checked the inside. Slowly, she took three steps back.

"Where is he?" She quietly asked Rick, his face dropped as he saw her.

"Carol..." Rick stretched out a hand to her shoulder.

Carol whipped away, spinning away from him.

"Where is he?!" She demanded.

Rick stared at her, his head low as he scanned over everyone's ignorant gazes.

"No," Carol gasped, walking further away, "He's not...he can't be...no!"

Rick's head snapped up, he darted towards the distraught Carol and captured her hands in his.

"He isn't dead," Rick assured her, "He is not dead,"

Carol looked up into Rick's stormy eyes, relieved yet anxious.

"Where is he?" She asked a third time, eyes wide like a small child.

"He's still there, still in Woodbury, we're going back for him," Rick insisted, watching as Carol's mouth opened and closed and opened again.

"You...you left him?!" Carol whispered to Rick.

Rick nodded slowly.

Ripping away from Rick's grip, she omitted a series of three pain filled screams as she tore at her clipped hair, that had began to grow longer and into tufts. She only stopped when she realized the contorted look on Beth's face each time she cried out in desolation. When she stopped, she stopped everything. She stood still and stared as Rick waved a hand in front of her, she shook her head sadly. After what seemed like forever as the sun dipped behind the trees, everyone trailed inside. Maggie with the baby, Glen leaning against Hershel, his face so badly beaten that he could not even register an emotion; Michonne was already inside and Carl began to explain the situation to Rick as they unwillingly left her outside.

..

Later, Axel came to sit with her, she didn't even move as the Volvo door opened and he slide inside.

"Not the time to hit on me Axel," Carol breathed.

Their silence grew awkward quickly, awkward but nice.

"Oscar," Axel's voice broke.

Carol felt a twinge of guilt. She had forgotten about Oscar, she had forgotten completely.

"What happened?" She asked, she hoped it was so quiet he wouldn't hear but he did.

" He got shot, was tryna help everyone," Carol felt Axel's pain, for now, Daryl was both dead and alive and the dead part was sinking in far more quickly.

"I'm sorry, he was a good guy, saved Rick," Their conversation was short and fragmented, brief.

Axel boke down in tears a couple times during the many number of hours they sat in the car, he tried to hide it from her but as he in took breath she could hear the ragged gasps as he attempted to suck in breath. Carol did not cry, Daryl would not have cried, Daryl would have found her, Daryl did find her, and now she was going to find him.

She tried to eat when Beth gave her a tin of beans, there was no squirrel stew tonight. She managed few spoonfuls and then abandoned the 'meal'. She couldn't bing herself to think about how Maggie was or what had happened to Glen, all she could think of was Daryl. Were they hurting him? Torturing him? Was he dead? Alive? Was he managing to stop being a smart ass long enough to survive?

She just didn't know.

So she turned on the ignition of the car and she and Axel stayed perfectly still as the car began to fill with poison.


	18. Rescue

**Why am I still updating this? Reviews and comments and criticism and all that jazz is welcome**

* * *

"Axel, I need a favor," Carol turned to the fair haired man with the handle bar mustache.

"Anything for you," He smiled politely.

Carol gripped the steering wheel, staring at the two huge wire gates ahead of her.

"Get out of the car,"

...

Carols hands were sweating. She gripped the keys tightly as she turned them in the ignition, breathing heavily and frequently spinning around to check for any signs of movement. As she pushed down of the gas the car began to roll forward, picking up speed as it accelerated down the hill.

Axel stood by the gate, running open with it as Carol drove through, increasing the pressure on the pedal she sped down the path and into the woods, watching in her rear view mirror as the prison yard filled with tiny dark figures, all waving their arms and shouting.

She guessed that they would follow her immediately, but they couldn't catch up. She would rescue Daryl; that's when she realized. She had no clue how to get to Woodbury.

Dragging the Volvo along the empty road it yawned to a stop, Carol placed her forehead on the steering wheel as she felt the presence of another car pull up alongside her.

Rick stepped out.

She didn't look up even as Rick slammed his hand onto the window with a loud, dull, thud. Hearing Rick try and fail to open her locked door she raised her head and stared at him, eyes pleading.

Slowly, she rolled the window down.

"What the hell are you doin' Carol?!" Ricks deep accent was magnified by the tiny gap into the window he was speaking through, "You're gonna get us all killed,"

"They'll kill him Rick," She snapped back, "Don't you see that we ain't got time to spare?!"

Rick stepped back, swiping his hands through his unkempt hair, shaking his head.

"No, no, you don't even know the way," He was bent over in a patronizing stance and accentuating everything with his hands.

"I'll go," Michonne stepped towards Carol's car. Her white katana contrasting with the smooth darkness of her skin, arms folded across her chest.

"No, you are not part of this decision," Rick seethed.

"Doesn't look like you are either," Michonne strolled towards the car.

"If you get in that car, don't think we will ever show you kindness again," Rick threatened, brandishing his python like a sword.

Michonne stared at Rick, expressionless as she gripped the handle. She opened the door. Rick sprinted towards her as she slid into the car besides Carol, attempting the manouver his way in and stop them going.

Carol drove away at full speed.

...

The conversation between them was forced, Carol tried to make polite conversation but it was clear from Michonne's tight answers that she didn't want to talk, much less about her past and her time at Woodbury.

"There's a better entrance round the back, park the car and we'll carry on on foot," Michonne issued the directions as Carol rapidly turned the wheel, her heart beating as she looked on at the burning torches and smokey atmosphere. She had been here once before and she didn't like it then, less now it was Daryl's life in danger.

The two women crept out of the car, opening the trunk to a small armory, a mass of weapons and grenades littered the backseat. Swiftly they checked the ammunition three of the weapons were completely dry but they managed to make use of the remaining guns.

Deftly they made their way through the corpse strewn field just outside of Woodbury. Legs and arms and heads poked up from the soil and a walker to the side of Michonne was casually ripping into a week old stomach. Entrails fell from it's bloody mouth as it was alerted to their presence.

Carol gasped as Michonne raised her gun but discovered it was only to point at the walker, to draw Carol's attention to it.

Swiftly Michonne sped up to it and with a flick out her sword the head was gone.

The two could hear cheers and music from inside Woodbury coupled with cries of anger and a roaring crowd. Carol mussed her hair as she looked to Michonne for guidance, Michonne pointed to a gap in Woodbury's fence big enough for a person to fit through.

The two of them crept up to it, Carol first, when they heard rummaging. A scratching sound followed by a snuffling, another walker.

Michonne nodded and Carol flipped round pressing her gun to the walker's head, it was unlikely it would be heard of the music in Woodbury but before she could pull the trigger her hand was grabbed and the walker pushed all it's weight onto her. Causing her to fall onto the ground with a thump as the thing rolled onto her, her wrist cracking as she dropped the gun.

She spotted Michonne with her mouth open. Carol knew that bitch wouldn't help her.

She looked up, ready for hands on combat.

Daryl Dixon was on top of her.

"Holy shit Carol," Daryl breathed. Jumping off of her and dragging to her feet, "The fuck are you doin' here?!"

Daryl was out of breath and bright red, he had obviously been running.

"Rescuing you!" Carol, her eyes smarting with relief as she threw herself at the sweat soaked man, wrapping her long graceful arms around his neck.

He didn't hug her back, he coughed twice and she released him.

They stood awkwardly looking at each other, neither one of them wanting to say the next word.

"I thought you were dead," She whispered.

Daryl smiled weakly, staring down at the frail woman who had come to rescue his sorry ass. He placed one grimy hand under her chin and tilted her face up to him, leaning down he placed a tender and gentle kiss on her forehead and felt her shiver.

"Okay, let's get the fuck outta here," He growled, taking Carol's hand and making for the car.


End file.
